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The Girl Who Never Existed

She searched for herself… and found a lie.

By Abid Ali KhanPublished 6 months ago 3 min read

Previously...

Hira has uncovered impossible truths — medical records stating she imagined a daughter who never existed, yet photographs, voicemails, drawings, and mirror messages point to a child trapped beneath her apartment floor.

In a final act of desperation, she returns to the trapdoor in the basement, determined to face the truth — whether it ends in madness or redemption.



The Descent

The wood groaned under her feet as Hira stepped onto the old staircase beneath the trapdoor. The flashlight’s beam trembled in her hand, reflecting dust and age from the stone walls.

As she descended deeper into the darkness, the air grew colder, heavier — like it hadn’t been touched by time… or life.

This time, the rusted door at the back of the stone room was slightly ajar.

She swallowed hard and stepped forward.

“Hira…”

A child’s voice whispered again.

“Are you… finally coming back?”



The Room Beyond the Door

She pushed the door open.

It creaked like a scream.

Inside was a small stone cell. Bare. Damp. Silent.

But in the center sat a wooden chair… and on that chair — a doll. Faded. Ripped. Missing an eye.

Next to it, a name written on the wall in crayon: “Leena”

That name hit her like lightning.

She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Leena.

The name she had whispered in dreams. The one that sometimes echoed in her mind like a lullaby. The name she once screamed as doctors pulled her away.



The Truth Unfolds

On the far wall, a large mirror hung crookedly.

Hira approached it slowly.

Her reflection flickered.

Then — it changed.

Now she stood not in a stone room… but in a sunny bedroom.

A child sat on the floor, drawing.

The girl looked up. “Mama?”

Tears welled in Hira’s eyes.

“Leena?”

The child smiled, but the light around her dimmed.

“You forgot me.”

“No, no I didn’t,” Hira whispered. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t remember.”

The girl stood, walked to the mirror, and pressed her hand to the glass.

“You said you’d never leave. But when they took you… you never came back.”

Hira pressed her hand to the same spot.

“I came back now,” she whispered.



The Collapse

Suddenly, the room began to shake.

The mirror cracked.

Voices screamed — hundreds of them — all saying her name.

“Hira.”
“Hira.”
“HIRA.”

She staggered back, clutching her head.

Flashes of memory exploded in her mind.

A hospital bed.

A child screaming.

Her wrists strapped down.

A doctor’s voice: “We erased the false memories to help her heal.”


False?

Was Leena just a creation?

Or had they removed her?

Had they taken Leena from her mind?

She crawled toward the mirror again as shards began to fall.

Each piece reflected a different version of her — angry, crying, laughing, empty.

And one… smiling.

With blood on her hands.



The Final Message

From the wall beside the mirror, a line appeared in glowing red:

“If you forget her again… she will become you.”

The mirror shattered.




Awakening

Hira woke up in her bed.

Sweating. Gasping.

Sunlight streamed through the window.

Was it a dream?

Was any of it real?

She rushed to the bathroom mirror.

Her reflection stared back. Calm. Empty.

She looked around her apartment. Everything was normal.

No trapdoor. No stone room.

But when she turned to the desk, a drawing lay there.

Crayon.

A child and a woman.

Above their heads:
“Me and Mama.”

She blinked.

On the back of the page, written in a child’s hand:

“Thank you for coming back.”




One Month Later

Hira moved away from Ridge Town.

Started therapy.

Got a new job.

Sometimes, she wakes up at 3:00 AM and hears a lullaby.

Sometimes the mirror fogs up even when there’s no steam.

But she never forgot again.

She keeps the drawing by her bedside.

And in her new apartment, there’s a room no one else sees — filled with toys, crayons, and a single doll named Leena.


But One Last Thing...

On her birthday, a letter arrived.

No return address.

Inside, a photograph.

Hira. And Leena. Sitting on the floor of the stone room.

Both smiling.

On the back:
"The girl who never existed… finally came home."



End of Series: The Shadow Behind Her Eyes

familyFan FictionHolidayHorrorMicrofictionMysteryPsychologicalYoung Adult

About the Creator

Abid Ali Khan

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