I stared at the mirror under the bed.
It wasn't dusty anymore.
The glass was clean. Too clean.
Like someone had just wiped it. From the inside.
The handprint was still there. Pale. Long-fingered.
Pressed flat against the glass as if waiting to be held.
I didn't want to touch it.
But I couldn't stop looking.
Then—my reflection moved.
I didn't.
It blinked. Tilted its head.
Its expression slowly stretched into a smile.
A smile I wasn't making.
I backed away.
The reflection stayed where it was—smiling. Still.
Then, it raised one hand.
Waved.
I hadn't moved.
The room darkened around the edges. The air thinned, like altitude sickness.
Behind me, the light buzzed once and died.
In the reflection, my other self leaned closer. Her smile widened unnaturally—cheek muscles twitching like something learning how to be human.
Then, it mouthed something slowly:
"Stay."
I crawled backward until my back hit the far wall.
The mirror didn't reflect that. It showed me still kneeling in front of it.
Still staring. Still smiling.
My breath came short. I glanced at the door.
Still gone.
No handle. No seam. Just wallpaper.
A soft knock.
Not behind me this time.
Inside the mirror.
The reflected me turned its head sharply to the left, as if someone had entered behind it.
I looked.
Nothing behind me.
When I turned back—
There were two reflections.
Both me.
One was still smiling.
The other stared straight at me, expressionless, lips moving slowly:
"You were never here first."
Then—
CRACK.
The mirror splintered from the inside.
A thin black line ran across the center like a growing vein.
And in the moment before everything went dark—
only the smiling one remained.
Darkness swallowed me whole.