Don’t trust your mirror.
I didn’t—until it moved first.
I was brushing my hair…
Then I froze.
Because my reflection… didn’t.
It kept going.
Slow.
Then it stopped.
And smiled.
I wasn’t smiling.
I tried to step back—
…but it didn’t.
It leaned closer.
Right up to the glass.
And whispered something.
I couldn’t hear it…
…but I saw my lips say:
“Don’t turn around.”
So I didn’t.
Because then—
my reflection raised its hand…
…and waved at something behind me.
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