could barely tell if she had slept at all.
The crack in the bathroom mirror was still there, now stretching down like a wound. Her parents insisted it must have just broken on its own overnight. Old houses had quirks, they said.
By morning, Joy
But Joy knew better.
The reflection in the glass didn't just crack,it had changed. Something had been there. And worse, it had seen her.
She couldn't shake the image from her mind: those hollow, watching eyes in the mirror… that inhuman stillness. She didn't tell her parents what she'd read in Elsie's diary. They wouldn't believe her.
They never believed the whispers.
But that morning, she realized she wasn't the only one hearing them.
***
She found her younger brother, Tony, in the corner of the living room, speaking in low murmurs to the wall. His fingers were pressed against the faded wallpaper, tracing invisible lines.
Joy knelt beside him. "Tony? Who are you talking to?"
He blinked and smiled at her. "My friend. She's nice."
Joy's stomach dropped. "What's her name?"
"Elsie," he said softly. "She said you found her book."
Rhea froze.
The diary. Elsie. Her brother wasn't just imagining things,he knew. Somehow, this thing… this spirit had already gotten to him.
"She said you woke them up," Tony added in a whisper, glancing toward the hallway as if he expected someone or something to walk by.
Joy's voice cracked. "Tony… who are 'they'?"
He didn't answer. He just stood up and walked away, humming an unfamiliar lullaby that made Joy's skin crawl.
***
That night, Joy couldn't bring herself to sleep.
She sat on her bed, diary in her lap, headphones in her ears playing white noise. Her phone rested beside her, recording just in case. Her parents had taken the diary away, but she'd found it again hidden under a loose floorboard, exactly where she'd first discovered it.
The last few pages had changed.
More words had appeared, written in a frantic, shaky hand:
"They come through mirrors. They want faces. They take what you leave unguarded."
"Don't look directly at them."
"They hate light."
Her heart pounded as she reread those lines. Suddenly, a faint creaking sound pulled her eyes to the hallway.
The bathroom light flickered once… then twice.
Then it went out.
Joy grabbed her flashlight and crept out of her room. The entire hallway was now bathed in darkness, except for her beam of light.
The mirror at the end of the hall looked foggy,like someone had breathed on it.
She stepped forward.
One… two… three steps.
She raised the flashlight and gasped.
A face was staring back at her from the mirror.
But it wasn't hers.
It looked like her, yes but the eyes were wrong. Lifeless. Glossy. The mouth was slightly open, lips whispering something she couldn't hear.
Joy turned to run but the hallway behind her was gone.
All that stood there was darkness.
Pitch black.
And the whispering had returned.
Closer now. Louder. Like voices crawling into her ears.
Joy ran back to her room, slamming the door shut and throwing herself under the covers. She buried her head into the pillow and tried to drown it out.
Her flashlight flickered.
And then it died.
She fumbled for her phone, hands shaking, and turned on the flashlight app.
But it wouldn't load.
Suddenly, the whispering stopped.
Silence.
Too much silence.
Joy peeked out from under the blanket.
And there, standing in the corner of her room, was Tony.
Only… he wasn't moving.
He just stood there, motionless.
"Tony?" she whispered.
He slowly turned to her.
His face was pale. His lips were blue. And his eyes…
They weren't Tony's eyes anymore.
"I told you," he said, his voice layered with another higher"you shouldn't have looked."
And then he smiled.
A slow, unnatural stretch of the mouth that didn't belong on a child's face.
Suddenly, her phone screen lit up on its own flashing an image of the hallway .
The mirror was gone.
In its place was a door.
And behind that door, Joy could hear scratching.
As if something… was trying to get out.
She turned to ask Tony what was happening but he was gone.
And the diary now lay open on her desk with new words etched into the page:
"She wore your skin once. Now she wants it back."