My Reflection Stares At Me A Little Longer Than It Should.

I had always been drawn to antiques, particularly those with a rich and intriguing history. So when I stumbled upon a beautiful mirror at an estate sale, I knew I had to have it. The ornate frame was a stunning work of art, with intricate carvings and embellishments that caught the light and danced across the room.

I hung the mirror in my bedroom, above the dresser, and would often stand in front of it, admiring my reflection. But something about the mirror always gave me an uneasy feeling. It was as if the mirror had a life of its own, watching me with its cold and unforgiving gaze.

As the weeks went by, strange things began to happen. At first, it was just small things, like objects in the room being moved or misplaced. But soon, the occurrences became more frequent and more sinister. I would wake up to find scratches on the walls or strange symbols etched into the floor.

I tried to ignore it, telling myself that it was just my imagination running wild. But deep down, I knew that something was wrong. And then one night, I caught a glimpse of something in the mirror that made my blood run cold.

It was a dark and twisted figure, lurking in the shadows behind me. I turned around, but there was nothing there. When I looked back at the mirror, the figure was gone. I tried to convince myself that it was just a trick of the light, but the unease never left me.

Over the next few days, I became obsessed with the mirror. I would spend hours staring at it, trying to catch another glimpse of the figure. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important that I was missing, something hidden within the mirror.

One night, as I was getting ready for bed, I noticed that the mirror was glowing with an eerie blue light. I approached it cautiously, feeling a strange sense of anticipation. As I peered into the glass, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. It was as if the mirror was pulling me in, drawing me closer and closer.

Suddenly, my reflection began to fade away. It was replaced by a dark and twisted version of myself, with glowing red eyes and sharp, pointed teeth. I tried to turn away, but it was too late.

As my reflection faded away, I found myself trapped inside the mirror. The world around me had been transformed into a twisted and distorted version of reality, where nothing was as it seemed. I was alone and afraid, trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Time had no meaning in the mirror, and I began to lose all sense of self. I was no longer the person I once was. I was just a shell, a shadow of my former self.

And then one day, as I was wandering through the endless halls of the mirror, I saw something that made my heart skip a beat. It was a figure, standing just out of reach. It was me.

I tried to reach out to myself, to break through the barrier that separated us. But it was no use. I was trapped, forever on the other side of the mirror.

The cursed mirror had claimed another victim, and I was its latest prisoner.

I don't know how long I was trapped in the mirror. Time seemed to lose all meaning, and I was left alone with my thoughts and the darkness. It was a never-ending nightmare, one that I couldn't escape from.

But then, something changed. I felt a strange sensation, as if something was pulling me back into the real world. I resisted at first, afraid that it was just another trick of the mirror, but the pull became stronger and stronger. Before I knew it, I was falling, tumbling through the darkness.

I landed with a thud on the floor of my bedroom, gasping for air. I looked around, disoriented, and realized that I was back in the real world. The cursed mirror was gone, replaced by an empty space on my bedroom wall.

At first, I was relieved. I thought that I had finally escaped the nightmare that had consumed my life. But as the days went by, I began to feel a sense of unease once again. It was as if the mirror had left its mark on me, and I could never shake the feeling that something was watching me.

The scratches on the wall and the strange symbols on the floor had disappeared, but they had been replaced by something far more sinister. Everywhere I looked, I saw my reflection, but it was distorted and twisted, a reminder of the nightmare I had been trapped in.

I knew that I couldn't go on like this. I had to find a way to break the curse, to free myself from the mirror's hold once and for all. But how?

I spent hours researching the mirror, scouring the internet for any information I could find. And then I stumbled upon a legend, an ancient tale about a cursed mirror that trapped the souls of those who dared to look into it.

According to the legend, the only way to break the curse was to destroy the mirror, to shatter it into a million pieces. It wouldn't be easy, but it was my only hope.

I gathered all the strength I had and marched into my bedroom, determined to destroy the cursed mirror once and for all. But as I raised the hammer, ready to strike, I hesitated.

What if destroying the mirror didn't break the curse? What if I was doomed to be trapped in its hold forever? I couldn't take that risk.

And so, I made a decision. I would leave the mirror alone, never again look into its twisted reflection. It was a small price to pay for my freedom, but it was worth it.

The curse of the mirror still haunts me, and I can never forget the nightmare I was trapped in. But I have learned to live with it, to accept it as a part of my past.

I often wonder if there are others out there, trapped in the mirror's hold. I hope that they can find a way to break the curse, to escape the nightmare that has consumed their lives.

But as for me, I will never forget the cursed mirror, and the terror it brought into my life. It was a lesson that I will never forget, a reminder that sometimes, the past can come back to haunt us in the most unexpected ways.