Whispers in the Mirror

Lena had always been drawn to old things. When she inherited her grandmother’s mansion, she spent hours exploring its dusty halls. But there was one room she avoided—a small parlor with a cracked mirror. Every time she glanced at it, she felt a chill crawl up her spine.

One evening, curiosity got the better of her. She stepped inside, brushing her fingers over the cracked glass. The surface shimmered unnaturally, and a voice whispered, “I see you.”

Lena jumped back, but the voice continued. “I’ve been waiting.”

The next night, the mirror began showing more than just her reflection. Scenes from her life—past and future—played across its surface. She saw herself laughing, crying, and sometimes standing in places she had never been. A shadowy figure lingered behind her reflection, silent but watching.

Days turned into restless nights. Lena couldn’t eat or sleep properly. The mirror whispered constantly, asking questions she didn’t know how to answer. “Do you remember me?” “Will you stay?”

One night, she touched the mirror again. The world behind the glass rippled, and Lena found herself stepping into a parallel version of her mansion. The shadows were alive, moving freely, whispering secrets of a world that mirrored her own.

A figure emerged—a woman identical to Lena, yet older, her eyes tired. “You’ve crossed the line,” she said softly. “Every choice here changes your world. Every glance creates a ripple.”

Lena realized she had been living in the consequences of choices she hadn’t even made yet. The mirror wasn’t just glass; it was a bridge to possibilities, fears, and truths she hadn’t faced.

With great effort, Lena stepped back through the mirror. She smashed it with a heavy candlestick. The whispers ceased. The room was quiet, the chill gone. But sometimes, when the wind howled through the mansion, she could hear faint voices murmuring from the shadows, reminding her that the mirror’s world was only a breath away.

From that night, Lena understood that some reflections were better left unexplored. But the memory of those whispers lingered, a haunting echo of the choices that might have been.