Marie and the Haunted Mirror

Marie and the Haunted Mirror

Marie loved antique furniture and vintage home décor, so when she passed a secondhand shop and saw an old mirror leaning against the wall, she couldn’t resist. It was covered in grime, its ornate gold frame dulled with age, but she could tell it was something special. The price tag read £20—a bargain for such a beautiful piece.

She brought it home and spent the evening cleaning it. The years of dust and dirt wiped away, revealing a flawless, gleaming surface. It was perfect. Tom, her helpful neighbor, came over to help her hang it in the lounge. She admired her find, proud of her bargain hunt.

That night, at 3 a.m., a loud knock jolted her awake. She sat up, heart pounding. The knocking continued. Wrapping herself in her dressing gown, she tiptoed to the front door. But when she opened it—nothing. The street was empty. A chill ran down her spine.

Feeling unsettled, she made herself a cup of warm milk, hoping it would help her sleep. As she climbed back into bed and switched off the light, the knocking came again.

But this time, it wasn’t from the door. Marie stepped into the lounge, her breath hard to take in. The sound was coming from the mirror. She turned toward it—and froze.

A pale, grey-haired woman stared at her from inside the glass, her eyes wide with desperation. Her frail hands pounded against the inside of the mirror. Though her mouth moved, no sound came out.

Marie let out a bloodcurdling scream and bolted out the front door, straight to Tom’s house. She banged on his door until he groggily answered. “Marie? What the hell…”

She gasped, “The mirror—there’s a woman inside it!” Tom frowned but didn’t question her panic. “Alright, let’s go see.” Back at Marie’s house, they stood before the mirror. But the woman was gone. The glass reflected nothing but their own anxious faces.

Marie refused to sleep with it in the house. They carried it outside, placing it in the garden for the night. The next morning, as they loaded it into Tom’s car, a woman appeared out of nowhere. She was older, with piercing blue eyes. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?” she said. Marie hesitated. “Who are you?”

“My name is Cilla. I’m a medium. That mirror is haunted.”

Marie and Tom exchanged a glance. Cilla continued, “There’s a spirit trapped inside. Her name is Jane. She was murdered in 1847 by a thief who broke into her home. He fled, leaving her lifeless on the floor. But as her spirit rose, she saw something—a glow coming from the mirror.”

Marie shivered as Cilla spoke. “A dark spirit was inside, waiting. It beckoned her forward. Weak, confused, she moved her spirit toward the light. The mirror opened, sucking her soul inside. Trapped. Alone. For nearly two centuries, she has waited for someone with the ability to see her.”

Cilla’s gaze locked onto Marie. “You have that gift. You awakened her.” Marie’s stomach twisted. “How do we free her?”

“I can do it,” Cilla said. “But once she’s released, the mirror may never be safe again.” It has to be broken and thrown into a river or the sea.

“Then take it,” Marie said quickly. “I don’t want it back.” Cilla nodded, loading the mirror into her car. As she drove away, Marie and Tom stood in silence. Marie exhaled. “I swear, I am never buying from a secondhand shop again.” Tom chuckled, shaking his head. No you better not lol.

They got into the car and drove home, still stunned by the events of the past two days. The End.