The Mirror's Reflection

Catherine had always loved her room. It was cozy, with warm sunlight streaming through the windows and a soft, cushioned chair by her desk where she often sat to do her homework. The only thing that bothered her, ever so slightly, was the tall, antique mirror that stood in the corner. It had been there since they moved into the house, a gift from the previous owners who claimed it was over a hundred years old. Catherine wasn’t sure if she liked the mirror. It was old, with a heavy wooden frame and slightly cloudy glass, as though time had left its mark on it. Still, she rarely thought much about it—until recently.

It started one evening when she was brushing her hair in front of the mirror. Catherine stopped for a moment, her hand frozen mid-stroke, as she noticed something odd in the reflection. Behind her, in the mirror, there was something that shouldn't have been there. It looked like a shadow, a dark spot in the far corner of her room, where the wall met the floor. Catherine glanced over her shoulder quickly, but when she looked directly at the spot, there was nothing there. Confused, she turned back to the mirror. The shadow was gone.

Shaking her head, she brushed it off as a trick of the light. She was probably just tired, she thought. But over the next few days, things got stranger.

Every time she looked into the mirror, something was different. At first, it was subtle—small movements in the reflection that didn’t match the room exactly. A curtain swaying even though the window was closed. The reflection of her lamp flickering, though in reality it remained still. Catherine tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

One day, while tying her hair, she noticed the reflection behind her start to change again. The shadows in the mirror were shifting, and this time, it wasn't just a trick of the light. The reflection of her bed seemed...off. It was slightly misaligned, as if the room in the mirror was a copy of her real room, but not an exact one.

Heart pounding, Catherine slowly turned away from the mirror to look at the bed. Everything was where it should be. But when she turned back to the mirror, her reflection was still fixing its hair, even though she had already stopped.

She stepped closer to the glass, staring at the image of herself. The reflection was now mimicking her movements but with a slight delay, almost as if it had its own mind. When she lifted her hand, the reflection did the same, but a second too late. She waved her hand back and forth, and again, the reflection lagged behind.

"What is going on?" Catherine whispered to herself, her voice trembling.

The next day, things got even worse. The reflection of her room began to look darker, the colors fading into a dull, lifeless grey. Her reflection, too, seemed different. The delayed movements had become more obvious, but it was something else that scared her: her reflection didn’t smile when she did. It stared back at her with blank eyes, expressionless, while she stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

Catherine told herself that she was imagining things. She tried to avoid the mirror altogether, but it was impossible not to catch glimpses of it throughout the day. Each time, the reflection grew stranger, less like her real room, and more like some twisted, warped version of it.

The final straw came one evening when Catherine was getting ready for bed. She turned to the mirror one last time, determined to prove to herself that it was all in her head. She took a deep breath and waved at her reflection. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the reflection waved back, just like before—but this time, it smiled.

A chill ran down her spine. That smile wasn’t her own. It was too wide, too unnatural, like it didn’t belong to her face. Catherine stumbled backward, her heart racing. The reflection slowly lowered its hand, still smiling. She backed away further, watching in horror as her reflection remained in place, standing still in the mirror.

It wasn’t following her movements anymore.

Panicking, Catherine rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew one thing for sure—something was wrong with the mirror.

She avoided her room for the next few days, sleeping on the couch in the living room. But the thought of the mirror haunted her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, wondering if the reflection was still standing there, waiting for her. The strange shadow in the corner, the delayed movements, the eerie smile—it all played over and over in her mind.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, Catherine decided to confront the mirror one last time. She needed to know if it was real or if she was just imagining things. She marched up to her room, heart pounding, and opened the door.

The mirror stood where it always had, reflecting the dim light of the room. Catherine cautiously approached it, her eyes glued to the glass. For a moment, everything seemed normal. The reflection showed her room as it was—nothing strange, nothing out of place.

But then she saw it. Her reflection was there, staring back at her. But something was wrong. It wasn’t moving at all. Catherine took a step closer, and the reflection remained still. She raised her hand, but the reflection didn’t follow.

Terror gripped her as she realized the reflection was no longer mimicking her movements. It was just...watching her. And then, slowly, it began to move on its own.

The reflection took a step forward, towards the glass, even though Catherine hadn’t moved. She stood frozen in place, unable to breathe. The reflection reached up and pressed its hand against the inside of the mirror, as though it was trying to push through.

Catherine stumbled backward, her heart pounding in her chest. The reflection grinned that same, wide, unnatural smile. And then, it whispered something.

"I’m coming."

With a scream, Catherine turned and ran, slamming the door behind her as she fled down the hallway. She didn’t stop until she was outside, the cool night air hitting her face as she gasped for breath.

From that night on, Catherine never returned to her room. The mirror remained in the corner, untouched, its reflection still watching, still waiting. She told her parents she didn’t feel comfortable in that room anymore, and they agreed to move her to a different one. But even though she never went near the mirror again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the reflection was still there, somewhere, waiting for its chance to escape.

And every now and then, late at night, she thought she could hear a whisper from behind her, faint and distant.

"I’m coming."

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction and has been generated by an AI. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The content is for entertainment purposes only and does not reflect any real-world situations or entities.