I couldn’t believe it when I found the antique mirror frame at the flea market. The mirror itself was flawless, but somehow I was drawn to it magically. It was as if he was luring me in with his dark, sparkling eyes. Without hesitation, I bought the mysterious object and brought it into my home.
The mirror found its place in my bedroom. Over the next few days, however, I noticed strange things. Every time I looked in the mirror, my own reflection seemed to hide something from me. It was as if it carried a dark secret that it didn’t want to reveal.
The nights grew restless. I kept waking up in a sweat after being struck by a bizarre nightmare. My reflection in the dream looked like me, but it had a horribly disfigured mouth that was staring at me with a devilish smile.
I felt increasingly attracted to the mirror, although at the same time I was repelled by it. It was as if an invisible force bound me to him and pulled me under his spell. I couldn’t shake the thought that there was another world in the mirror - a gloomy, nightmarish world.
One evening, as I stood in front of the mirror again, I felt an icy touch on my shoulder. I spun around, but there was no one behind me. I turned my gaze back to the mirror and my heart skipped a beat. My reflection gave me a hideous smile and his mouth moved as if in a whisper. But I heard no words.
The mirror became an obsession for me. I spent hours standing in front of it hoping to solve the mystery. My own reflection in the mirror both fascinated and frightened me. Why didn’t it show me the truth? What was it trying to tell me?
I started to lose my mind. The lines between reality and illusion blurred, and I no longer knew what was real. I heard voices whispering in my ear and saw shadows moving around the mirror.
One night, as I was standing in front of the mirror again, something inexplicable happened. My reflection moved independently of me. It stopped smiling and just stared at me with empty, dead eyes. I tried to run away, but my reflection in the mirror followed me. It moved out of the mirror as if trying to come into real life.
Horrified and desperate, I ripped the mirror off the wall and threw it on the floor. A loud bang filled the room and I felt an ominous presence envelop me. The mirror was broken, but the evil seemed set free.
Since that night I’ve hidden the mirror, trying to forget the horror it brought me. But the memories won’t let me go. Whenever I look in other mirrors, I see my reflection’s bizarre nightmares and wonder if it’s still there, in some twisted dimension, ready to haunt me again.
The fear has taken hold of me and I don’t dare to look at my own reflection. Because who knows what kind of sinister figure is hiding there, waiting to pull me under its dark spell again.