“The Night You Vanished”
It started with a reflection.
You were brushing your teeth one evening, and for just a second, your reflection didn’t move with you. You blinked, and it caught up — a half-second delay, nothing more. You told yourself it was tired eyes, the bathroom light flickering again.
But over the next few nights, it happened more often. Your reflection began hesitating — turning its head slower, blinking later. You started leaving the light off when you passed mirrors.
Then one morning, you woke up feeling lighter. Not refreshed — hollow. When you exhaled, you could see your breath, even though the room was warm. You tried to shake the feeling, but your shadow looked… thinner than usual.
You checked your reflection again.
This time, it smiled before you did.
The smile didn’t look cruel — just knowing. And when you stepped closer, it whispered. Not aloud, but inside your head, right behind your eyes:
“You’re fading. I’ve been waiting for the rest of you.”
You stumbled back, heart pounding — but your body felt delayed, like your limbs were moving through syrup. And when you looked again, your reflection’s lips weren’t moving anymore. It just stared, unblinking.
Over the next few days, you started forgetting small things — how coffee smells, how your laughter used to sound. Your voice grew softer. Your reflection’s, however, looked more alive.
By the final night, you woke up in darkness so heavy it didn’t feel like night at all. You reached for your phone — but your hand went through it. You couldn’t feel your pulse. Couldn’t even hear your breathing.
And in the mirror across the room — your reflection blinked awake, stretched, and smiled.
You watched it walk away.
You haven’t been seen since.
But sometimes, people still swear they glimpse your shadow walking behind them — just half a step out of sync.
stake id: Goldy4470