the mirror refliction

Sure — here’s a short, eerie horror story for you:

“The Reflection”

Everyone warned Mia about the old mirror.

She found it in a dusty antique shop tucked away in a forgotten alley, the kind of place that shouldn’t exist in a modern city. The mirror was ornate, its frame covered in twisting ivy carvings, but it was the glass that drew her in — it seemed to shimmer slightly, like it was breathing. The shopkeeper nearly begged her not to buy it, saying it “remembered things.”

But Mia liked strange things.

That night, she hung it on the wall across from her bed. When she looked into it, the reflection was perfect — except for one thing. She wasn’t smiling.

She stared at the glass. Her real face was neutral, but the reflection smirked, just slightly, eyes twinkling with something… wrong.

She blinked. The smile was gone.

Shaking it off, Mia went to bed.

At 3:07 a.m., she woke with a start, heart pounding. She didn’t know why. The room was silent. Still. Cold.

Then she heard it — a creaking sound. Not from the floor. Not from the door.

From the mirror.

Mia turned her head slowly.

Her reflection was sitting up in bed, looking at her.
She was still lying down.

The reflection smiled wider.

Then it stood up.

Mia couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. She watched helplessly as the reflection stepped forward — and out of the glass.

The last thing she saw was her own face, smiling down at her.