1: The First Look
> It was 3:07 AM.
No wind. No footsteps. Not even the hum of the night insects from the open window.
Just a breath — slow, heavy, and not mine.
> I jolted awake like someone had called my name.
But the house was silent.
My body was sweating, but my hands were ice.
A chill had settled over me, thick like fog.
It felt like… like I wasn't alone.
> My eyes scanned the room — slow, cautious.
And then I saw it.
Sitting on the edge of my desk.
> A mirror.
> Small. Rectangular.
Its black wooden frame looked charred, cracked like it had survived a fire.
I didn't own it. I didn't bring it.
I knew my room.
That mirror wasn't there before.
> My fingers twitched.
Something in me screamed "don't touch it" — but my curiosity was louder.
I picked it up.
It was freezing, like holding a piece of winter.
And… I swear, it pulsed.
Like a tiny, slow heartbeat.
> I looked into it.
> My face stared back.
But it wasn't me.
> My eyes in the reflection were pitch black, endless.
My mouth twisted into a grin I didn't make.
And behind me…
A shadow. Standing perfectly still. Watching me.
> I spun around.
Nothing.
Empty room. Quiet air.
But when I turned back…
The reflection was still smiling.
Even when I wasn't.
> I dropped the mirror with a gasp.
It didn't shatter.
It landed on the carpet like it was never meant to break.
> I backed away slowly, heart pounding in my ears.
That thing — whatever it was — wasn't just glass.
It saw me.
It knew me.
It wanted in.
> And from that moment on…
Every night, at 3:07 AM,
I wake up.
The mirror is always back.
And the version of me inside…
She's getting closer.