The Reflection in the Mirror

It was an ordinary evening, or so it seemed. Olivia had just moved into the small apartment above a coffee shop in the heart of the city, away from the chaotic noise of her old life. The apartment was nothing special—compact, with hardwood floors that creaked and a window overlooking the dimly lit streets below—but for Olivia, it felt like a fresh start.

The previous tenants had left quickly, it seemed. The landlord didn’t speak much of them, only mentioning they had moved to the countryside for a quieter life. Olivia didn’t mind; she was used to people coming and going. She was here to start over, to leave behind the mistakes and ghosts of her past.

Her first night in the apartment was peaceful. She unpacked her things, rearranged the furniture, and spent a quiet evening reading by the window. Everything felt perfect, serene. But as the evening shadows grew longer, something in the apartment started to feel... off.

It began with the mirror.

The old-fashioned mirror above the fireplace had been left by the previous tenants. Its gold frame was intricate, swirling with patterns of ivy and roses. It was beautiful, but it had an unsettling aura, one that Olivia couldn’t quite explain. Every time she passed by it, she could feel a strange pull, as though it was watching her.

The first night, she shrugged it off. But then, the reflection started to shift.

Olivia was brushing her hair in front of the mirror when she caught the faintest glimpse of movement in the glass. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, a trick of the light, but when she looked again, her reflection had changed. It wasn’t exactly her. It was her, but... different. The figure in the mirror had a cold, eerie smile that didn’t match her own, and her eyes seemed hollow, black as ink.

Her breath caught in her throat. She stepped back, her heart hammering in her chest. The reflection in the mirror stayed still, but Olivia could feel it—feel the eyes of her reflection watching her, following her every movement. It was as if the reflection wasn’t just a reflection, but something else entirely. Something alive.

She quickly turned away from the mirror, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling. But over the next few days, the strange occurrences only grew worse. The reflection began to move without her. It started making faces at her, pulling its lips into an eerie grin when she was looking away, or flicking its eyes to the door as if it were waiting for someone to enter.

It didn’t make sense. She would check the mirror from every angle, but the reflection always seemed to know what she was doing before she did it. Sometimes, she would leave the room and return, only to find the reflection had changed positions—twisted into an unnatural posture that made her stomach churn.

One night, after a particularly long day, Olivia returned home and collapsed on the couch, exhausted. She tried to ignore the mirror across the room, but her eyes kept drifting back to it. The reflection was different again. This time, it wasn’t just a smile or a strange gaze. The figure in the mirror was now reaching out to her.

Slowly, methodically, the reflection extended its hand toward the glass. Olivia stood frozen, her pulse racing, her skin cold with fear. She could feel the pull again—stronger this time. The reflection’s hand seemed to stretch further than humanly possible, as though it was reaching through the mirror, inching closer and closer to her own.

Her breath quickened. She wanted to move, to scream, but her body was paralyzed, as if the mirror had stolen her will. The hand in the mirror was now just inches from the glass, its fingers twitching in the air, almost as if it was testing the space between them. And then, without warning, the reflection’s fingers touched the glass.

For a split second, Olivia felt a sharp jolt, as though something had just pierced her very soul. She gasped, her vision blurring as an icy chill swept over her body. And then, it happened.

The reflection smiled. A wicked, twisted grin that stretched impossibly wide. The hand in the mirror didn’t just stay against the glass—it pushed through.

Olivia staggered backward, barely catching herself on the couch. She could see her reflection in the mirror now, but it was no longer hers. The figure in the mirror had taken her place. It was moving, smiling at her with that same sinister grin, but it wasn’t her.

The reflection reached out again, but this time, Olivia was ready. She turned and bolted for the door, throwing it open and running down the stairs, not even pausing to grab her coat. The air outside was cold, but it felt like a relief. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart.

But as she looked back at the building, something caught her eye.

The window to her apartment was dark, but in the reflection of the glass, she saw it. In the mirror above the fireplace, her figure still stood there—smiling, waiting, as though nothing had happened.

Olivia never returned to the apartment. The mirror, she would later learn, was never removed. Some say it still hangs in that same room, waiting for its next occupant to make the same mistake. No one knows what happens to those who live there, but the mirror always has its eyes on them, its twisted reflection waiting for the perfect moment to take them in.

Thank you for reading The Reflection in the Mirror. If you enjoyed the story, don't forget to hit the like button and share it with others. Remember—some mirrors hold more than just a reflection.