Ananya hated the mirror in her new room.
It wasn't old. It wasn't cracked. It looked completely normal — tall, plain, and fixed to the wardrobe door. But every time she stood in front of it, something felt... off.
The first time it happened, she brushed it away.
She raised her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Her reflection did the same.
But a second too late.
She froze.
Maybe she imagined it.
Maybe her eyes were tired.
She stepped closer.
The girl in the mirror stared back.
Same face. Same eyes. Same small scar near the eyebrow.
Ananya slowly lifted her hand again.
This time, the reflection copied perfectly.
She laughed nervously. "See? Nothing."
That night at 2:17 AM, she woke up thirsty.
As she sat up in bed, she felt it.
Someone watching.
Her eyes drifted to the mirror across the room.
Her reflection was already sitting up.
Smiling.
Ananya wasn't.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Slowly... very slowly... her reflection raised its hand.
And waved.
"Come closer," it mouthed silently.
Ananya couldn't move. Couldn't scream.
The reflection's smile widened — stretching too far, too unnatural.
Then it knocked on the inside of the glass.
Three slow taps.
The mirror surface rippled like water.
And the smiling version of her began to step forward.
From the inside.
The next morning, Ananya's room was empty.
But the mirror looked normal.
Almost.
Because if you stand in front of it long enough...
You might notice your reflection smiling first.🖤