The Reflection

Lena had always been wary of the antique mirror in her grandmother’s house. It stood in the hallway, its gilded frame cracked in places, the glass slightly warped. Every time she walked past it, she felt something was… off. Like her reflection lingered a second too long after she had moved.

When her grandmother passed away, the house was left to Lena. She moved in hesitantly, unsettled by the silence that filled the place. The mirror remained in its spot, as if it had been waiting for her.

One night, while brushing her teeth, she glanced at her bathroom mirror.

Her reflection didn’t move.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She lifted a hand, and the image followed, but there had been a brief delay. She shook her head. “Just tired,” she mumbled.

She turned off the light and walked past the antique mirror in the hallway.

A whisper trailed behind her.

“Lena…”

She froze. Slowly, she turned back.

The hallway was empty. The mirror stood still, reflecting only darkness.

She swallowed hard and hurried to her room, locking the door behind her.

2:47 AM

A soft tap echoed in the silence.

Lena stirred in bed. Then, another.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her eyes fluttered open. The sound was coming from the hallway.

From the mirror.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, heart hammering.

Then, a creak.

The sound of something stepping out onto the wooden floor.

Lena held her breath.

A whisper slithered through the dark.

“You left me behind.”

Her bedroom door handle twisted.

Slowly.

Then, silence.

Lena sat frozen, staring at the door.

A minute passed.

Two.

Then—

A long, pale hand slid under the door.

Fingers curling, searching.

Lena screamed.

The hand withdrew. The whispers stopped.

Morning came, but Lena never left her room.

She couldn’t.

Because when she finally dared to look into the mirror…

Her reflection was gone.