It had been a week.
The house was dark. Still. Breathing.
Every mirror now wore a blanket — thick, black, suffocating. But the whispers seeped through.
"You can't hide from us…"
"We are you…"
"Face us…"
Ellie laid, curled in her bed, the blanket over her head, fists pressed to her ears. The room was suffocating — mirrors on every wall, floor to ceiling.
"Look at us…" they hissed.
She hadn't slept in days.
Her eyes were hollow. Her voice cracked.
"Stop…"
But the mirrors laughed.
Jeering. Mocking. Echoing her own pain.
"We are your trauma…"
"We are the pain you buried…"
"LOOK. AT. US!"
Then a sudden silence.
She froze.
Blanket still over her face, heart hammering.
Nothing.
She peeked out, eyes darting. She stood. Legs trembling. Her breath shallow. She stepped toward one mirror, peeled the blanket away...
FLASH.
A burst of white light.
A screech , metallic and ancient.
"Look at us."
Black.
She woke up, gasping.
Everything was quiet.
Morning light.
She bolted upright, panicked.
Ran to the bathroom.
No mirrors.
She gasped.
It was… it was just a dream.
Tears welled up. She laughed, weakly. "It was just a dream…"
She turned to go downstairs
THUD.
She crashed into something invisible. She blinked.
A wall?
No… it shimmered.
Then...it moved.
Her breath stopped.
On the other side… her.
Packing. Calm. Expressionless.
She screamed, pounding the glass.
"That's not me! I'm right here!!"
But no one heard.
No one saw.
Her reflection looked at her, quiet. Distant. Cold.
Then turned away.
Door click. Silence.
Ellie… was now the reflection.
Trapped.
The mirrors vanished.
One by one.
*
Months passed.
Sunlight danced through dusty curtains.
A woman stepped out of a cab, early 30s, tired eyes, divorce papers clutched tightly.
She stared at the quaint house. Calm. Too calm.
The agent handed her the keys with a forced smile.
"You'll love the peace," she said.
Inside, the woman wandered room to room, quiet, unsure. She reached the bedroom, touched the wall thoughtfully.
She opened her wardrobe.
Nothing unusual.
But something in the air felt… expectant.
A low hum.
In the hallway, her eyes caught the faint glimmer of glass.
Barely there.
As if waiting.
The cycle begins again.