You walk into your apartment, exhausted after a long day. This place is supposed to be your safe haven… your refuge. You toss your bag onto the chair and pass by the large mirror in the living room. You stop for a moment… run your fingers through your hair, look at your reflection… but something strange grips your heart: this mirror wasn’t here before. It looks elegant, new, as if it’s been replaced. You shake your head, telling yourself you must have forgotten.
Days pass, and the mirror becomes part of your routine. But that night, while brushing your hair before bed, you notice something that freezes you in place. Your reflection smiles… but its smile comes a split second after yours.
A cold shiver runs down your spine. You lean closer to the glass, staring harder… nothing. Just an illusion. You laugh nervously, but your heart is pounding.
The next day, while your fingers trace the edge of the mirror, a crazy thought crosses your mind. You knock on it lightly. The sound isn’t solid as you expected… but hollow.
Your breath catches. You press your ear against the glass, and you hear a faint whisper—like someone breathing on the other side. You stumble back, eyes widening… then suddenly, behind the glass, a shadow moves.
You freeze. Someone is standing behind the mirror. Someone has been watching you… all this time.
Then his voice comes, calm, soft, but laced with hidden madness: "Finally… you noticed. I was wondering how many days it would take you to find out…"
Your knees tremble. You step back, searching blindly for something to defend yourself with, but your voice comes out shaky: “Wh-who’s there?!”
His laugh reaches you—soft, distant, yet piercing straight into your chest. "Me? I’m the one who’s been with you from the start…"
You scream: “Get out! Or I’ll call the police!” But he answers with chilling calm: "Call them… tell them what? That you live alone, yet every mirror in your home breathes? Tell them you finally realized… I’m with you even when you think you’re alone?"
Your heartbeat races faster. You grab your phone, trying to dial… but just as you press the screen, you hear a small alert sound from behind the mirror… his voice follows: "Your battery’s dead, isn’t it?"
You freeze. How does he know? How…? You remember you always leave your phone charging by the bed. He knows your daily details. He knows everything about you.
His voice lowers, growing darker: "You were beautiful last night when you cried in front of the mirror. I couldn’t sleep watching your tears. I wanted to touch your cheek… but I thought I’d save it for today."
Goosebumps crawl over your skin. You move closer slowly, your hand trembling as you touch the glass again. A clearer shadow appears… a man standing there, his features blurred by the reflection, but you catch the glint of his eyes. He’s smiling.
“What do you want?!” you scream, your voice breaking.
He answers coldly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world: "I don’t want anything… except you. Your home? It’s mine now. Your time? It’s mine too. Your life? …It belongs to me."
Suddenly, he lifts his hand and presses it against the glass. Your fingers meet his, with only the thin mirror separating you. You can feel the heat of his madness seeping through the barrier. "The only problem… is that you still think there’s a barrier between us."