I was brushing my teeth last night when I noticed something strange.
My reflection blinked — half a second late.
I froze.
It wasn’t a trick of the light — I tested it. I raised my hand slowly.
It raised its hand too… but there was a faint lag, like bad video buffering.
I leaned closer to the mirror.
So did it — but its eyes were focused past me, not at me.
Then it smiled.
I didn’t.
My toothbrush slipped from my hand and hit the sink.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then the reflection tilted its head, slow and deliberate, like it was studying me.
And that’s when I realized — there was fog on its side of the mirror.
Not mine.
I backed away, heart pounding, when I saw its hand press against the glass from inside.
A faint whisper came from the drain, almost too soft to hear:
“Don’t leave me here again.”
This morning, the mirror was cracked.
But when I looked closely, I saw fingerprints — on the inside of the glass.
PrincessMehr