“We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.”
It started with a mirror.
Daniel moved into the old apartment alone. The rent was cheap, and he didn't ask why. In the hallway stood a tall mirror nailed to the wall. No matter how many times he walked past, he felt watched.
One night, he caught his reflection blinking—twice—as he stood still.
He laughed it off. Stress. Lack of sleep. Until the mirror smiled.
Daniel stood frozen. His reflection was still, but the grin on its face was not his own.
He covered the mirror with a blanket. It didn't help. At night, he heard whispering behind the cloth. Words he couldn't understand—but they made his skin crawl.
He smashed the mirror. Shards flew everywhere. Blood. His? He wasn’t sure. But the next morning, the mirror was whole again—grinning wider than before.
Daniel stopped sleeping. He tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t open. The windows were gone. The apartment changed. Or maybe... he had.
The mirror never blinked anymore. It didn’t have to.
You’re still watching from the other side, aren’t you?