The Mirror Never Lies

When Anna inherited the old Victorian house from her late aunt, she didn’t know what to expect. The house had been empty for years, its paint peeling, windows dusty, and floorboards creaking with each step. Yet, the moment she entered, one item caught her attention: a large, ornate mirror standing tall in the dim corner of the parlor.

It was unlike any mirror Anna had seen before. The frame was carved with strange symbols and twisting vines, and the glass shimmered somehow, despite years of neglect.

Her aunt had always been a bit mysterious, and Anna had heard rumors about the house, whispers of strange events and shadows that moved on their own. But Anna was a practical woman who believed in facts, not ghost stories.

That night, while the wind howled outside and the house creaked with eerie sounds, Anna felt drawn back to the mirror. She examined her reflection and sensed something was off.

Her eyes didn’t quite match. They looked darker, almost hollow, and her face appeared stretched, distorted in subtle, unsettling ways.

She blinked, and the image returned to normal.

Shaking off the unease, Anna chose to ignore it.

The next morning, Anna woke up feeling exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept. When she glanced in the bathroom mirror, the tired face looking back at her had eyes that seemed much older and haunted, as if the reflection held memories she didn’t recognize.

Days went by, and the mirror’s strange influence grew stronger. Anna began avoiding it, but sometimes, when no one was watching, she caught fleeting shadows behind her reflection. They were always just out of focus, disappearing whenever she turned around.

Her friends noticed changes too. Anna was quieter and more withdrawn. Her laughter came out hollow. Whenever someone asked what was wrong, she’d stare at the floor and say, “Nothing.”

One evening, Anna discovered an old diary hidden beneath the mirror inside a loose floorboard. It belonged to her aunt, and its pages contained frantic notes about the mirror’s dark past.

The diary claimed the mirror was cursed; it didn’t just reflect reality but showed a darker truth. The glass had the power to reveal deep fears and secrets, but it required a price: it fed on the soul of anyone who looked too long.

Her aunt’s last entries were desperate warnings:

“The mirror never lies. It shows you who you are or what it wants you to become. I tried to break free, but the reflection pulls harder every day. If you read this, run. Don’t look into the glass. It will take you.”

Fear enveloped Anna, but curiosity pushed back stronger. That night, she stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing.

The room was quiet except for the ticking of an old clock. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet her reflection.

At first, it looked normal. Then, her reflection smiled — a twisted, cruel smile she didn’t recognize. Its eyes glowed faintly red, and behind the reflection, the shadowy figure reappeared, reaching towards her.

Anna tried to look away, but her gaze was stuck.

Suddenly, the reflection whispered in a voice that wasn’t her own:

“You belong here. You will stay.”

The mirror’s surface rippled like dark water. Anna felt a cold pull, as if the glass was drawing her in.

She screamed, trying to free herself.

The next morning, the house was silent.

Anna was gone.

Only the mirror remained, its glass dark and still.

Weeks later, a neighbor came by to check on the house and found the mirror, untouched and menacing. When he looked closely, he thought he saw a faint face trapped inside the glass, eyes wide with fear and silently begging for release.

Sometimes, late at night, when the wind whistles through the trees and moonlight hits the mirror just right, you can hear a faint whisper:

“The mirror never lies; what you see is what it wants you to become.”