The Third Mirror

I know this sounds like something from a movie. But this story is real.
It happened to me earlier this year, and even now, I don’t feel safe talking about it.

But maybe if I tell you what happened, you’ll know what to do if you ever see your reflection doing something you didn’t.

Let me start from the beginning.

• My New Apartment Was Perfect
I had just moved into a one-bedroom apartment—top floor, quiet neighborhood, cheap rent. Too good to be true.

There were only two mirrors in the whole place:
– One in the bathroom above the sink.
– One full-length mirror in the hallway near my bedroom.

Simple. Clean. Normal.

Or so I thought.

• The First Time It Happened
It was late. Around 1:30 a.m.

I got up to get water. Walked down the hallway. Didn’t turn on the light.

As I passed the full-length mirror, I glanced at my reflection like always…

…but something was wrong.

My reflection wasn’t moving.

I had taken two steps forward. But the “me” in the mirror stayed standing still. Eyes locked on me.

I stopped.

It caught up a second later—snap—as if buffering.

I stared at it for a long time. Told myself I was just tired.

But I didn’t sleep that night.

• Things Got Weirder
The next night, I saw my reflection smile when I wasn’t smiling.

Another night, I walked past the bathroom mirror and saw someone else reflected behind me—just for a second.

I turned around.

Nobody there.

But when I looked in the mirror again… my reflection had something in its hand.

Something long. Sharp. A piece of broken glass.

My hands were empty.

• The Third Mirror
That weekend, I invited my friend Sam over.

While I made tea, he asked, “Hey… did you hang a mirror in your room?”

“No,” I said. “Why?”

“Because when I passed by your door,” he said slowly, “I saw someone looking at me from inside. Looked like you. But you were in the kitchen.”

I ran to my bedroom.

There it was: a new mirror on the far wall, perfectly clean. I had never bought it.

“I swear it wasn’t there yesterday,” I told Sam.

He didn’t laugh. He just said, “I don’t think you should sleep here tonight.”

• I Tried to Get Rid of It
I took the mirror down. Carried it outside. Smashed it with a hammer.

The glass shattered, but there was no reflection in any piece.

Just blackness.

Like a hole.

And when I turned to go back inside, my hallway mirror had fogged up on its own.

Four words were written in the condensation:

“WHY DID YOU LOOK”

• The Reflection Moved Out of Sync
That night, I covered every mirror in the apartment with towels and duct tape.

I set up my phone to record while I slept.

The next morning, I watched the footage.

At exactly 3:11 a.m., the towel over the hallway mirror slid off by itself.

A pale hand reached out of the glass.

Then the reflection of me stepped out.

It stood at the foot of my bed, breathing.

Then it leaned down… and whispered something into my ear.

I couldn’t hear what it said on the video.

But when I woke up, I was already standing—staring into the hallway mirror.

• Something Was Replaced
Over the next few days, people said I was acting strange.

Quieter. Colder.

Sam said, “You look like yourself, but… I don’t know, man. Something’s off.”

I looked in the mirror and smiled. My reflection didn’t match the smile. It looked forced.

It was like something was wearing me.

I started finding mirror messages:

“Let me stay.”
“You looked too long.”
“You belong on the other side now.”

• The Mirror World
I went back to the mirror I smashed.

The pieces were gone.

But in the corner of my hallway, I noticed a flickering—like light bouncing off glass.

I stepped close. Closer.

And then I was no longer in my apartment.

I was in a room that looked like my apartment—but mirrored. Everything reversed.

And darker.

A copy of me was sitting on the bed, grinning.

It said, in a voice just like mine:

“Thanks for letting me out. You can stay here now.”

I ran.

But when I woke up in my own bed the next morning…
There was no mirror in the hallway anymore.

• The Ending?
Now, sometimes, I look into shop windows and see someone behind me.

But when I turn around, I’m alone.

Sometimes, when I brush my teeth, I see myself blinking too late. Or smiling too long.

I tried to warn others.

I posted about it. Most people laughed. But a few messaged me:

“This happened to me too.”
“I smashed mine. It didn’t work.”
“They’re still watching.”

So now I’m telling you:

If you ever see a mirror where one wasn’t before…
If your reflection starts doing things you’re not doing…
Don’t look. Don’t speak. Don’t smile.

And whatever you do…

Don’t turn your back on the third mirror.