Rubbing my eyes, I started to walk toward the door, intending to go to the dining room for a cup of fresh water. My head still buzzed with remnants of the nightmare, but I needed to shake it off. Just as I was about to step forward, my foot slipped onto something cold.
"Huh?" I muttered, looking down at my leg.
To my horror, a mirror—a fragment of the nightmare itself—was beneath me, its surface rippling like liquid silver. My leg was being pulled in, and no matter how hard I tried to pull back, the force was too strong.
"W-Wait! What's happening!?"
Before I could grasp what was going on, the rest of my body was yanked into the mirror.
Wooosh!
Everything blurred as my surroundings twisted into a cascade of shifting light and reflections. A sensation of weightlessness overtook me, and I screamed as I fell from the sky toward what looked eerily familiar—a landscape identical to my hometown, in the night.
"Waaaaa!" I yelled, my voice echoing as I plummeted. Below me was the same place I knew so well, yet... it wasn't. It looked like a warped version of reality, the colors muted, the air heavy. The antique shop stood in the exact same spot, but the windows were fogged and cracked, and the streets seemed deserted.
Thud!
I hit the ground, miraculously unscathed, though the shock of the impact made me dizzy. My palms pressed against the cold surface of the ground—it felt solid, but there was a strange, faint shimmer to everything around me.
I stood up shakily, my heart racing.
"This... this is the same place as my dream," I whispered, my voice trembling.
Then a horrifying thought struck me. This isn't a dream. I'm awake. This is real.
I pinched my cheeks hard, and the sharp sting confirmed my fear. This wasn't a trick of the mind. I was in the mirror world, the same one I had been dragged into in my nightmare. The same twisted version of reality I had escaped only moments before.
"What the hell is going on!?" I shouted, the sound of my voice echoing into the strange, distorted silence.
I looked around, my breaths shallow and uneven. The streets were eerily silent, devoid of life. Not a single person in sight, and not even the faintest rustle of wind or distant chatter. It felt as if the entire world had been drained of its essence, leaving me alone in a strange, warped version of my town.
The antique shop was only a few steps away, but it looked different now. Its once-cozy exterior was shrouded in shadows, and it appeared foreboding. The sign creaked faintly, swinging as if touched by an invisible hand. Despite the unease creeping up my spine, I forced myself to step forward. My footsteps echoed unnaturally loud in the empty street.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice shaking slightly. There was no answer, just the oppressive silence pressing in on me. "Is anyone here?"
Nothing. Not even an echo responded.
I stopped in the middle of the street, slowly turning in circles, trying to take in my surroundings. The buildings were the same, placed in the exact same positions, but they felt wrong—like they were memories, faded and altered. The colors were muted, like an old photograph, and the edges of everything shimmered faintly, as though they were reflections themselves.
"This can't be real," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "It has to be some kind of... hallucination."
But deep down, I knew it wasn't. The chill of the air on my skin, the solid ground beneath my feet—everything was too vivid, too real. I was truly here, trapped in this distorted version of reality.
The longer I stood there, the more the silence weighed on me. It wasn't just quiet—it felt alive, oppressive. I felt like the very air was watching me, waiting for me to make a move.
"Okay, think," I told myself, trying to steady my breathing. "How did I get here? The mirror... it pulled me in. But how do I get out?"
My gaze shifted back to the antique shop. It seemed like a logical place to start—if this was my town, even in its twisted form, maybe the mirror would be the key to getting back. If I could find it again, I could escape.
"Alright... alright, I know the way. This is my town. I grew up here," I murmured to myself, though the uncertainty still gnawed at me. "I just have to make it back to the mirror... Hopefully, there's nothing more horrifying waiting for me."
I made my way cautiously through the empty streets, each step feeling heavier than the last. The eerie stillness pressed down on me, amplifying the sound of my footsteps. My eyes stayed fixed on the antique shop in the distance, but something else caught my attention.
The convenience store.
It stood exactly where it always had—just a block from my home. Its fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the shelves inside. It looked untouched, fully stocked with snacks, drinks, and other items. In the midst of this strange, lifeless version of my town, its normalcy felt oddly comforting.
I paused, glancing around to confirm what I already knew: there wasn't a single soul in sight.
If there's no one here, then… no one can stop me, right?
The thought flitted through my mind, and before I could overthink it, I headed toward the store. The automatic doors slid open with a mechanical whirr, even though there was no one to trigger them. Cool air from inside brushed against my skin, and for a moment, it felt like stepping into any ordinary night at the store.
I wandered the aisles, my gaze skimming over the brightly packaged snacks. Chips, chocolate bars, candy, instant noodles—everything was just sitting there, waiting. My stomach growled, a sharp reminder that I hadn't eaten since dinner.
"Well," I muttered, grabbing a large bag of chips and a handful of candy bars, "if no one's here, it's not like anyone will notice, right?"
With my arms full, I strolled through the aisles, picking up whatever caught my eye. The absurdity of the situation started to dull the edge of my fear. Here I was, in some bizarre mirror world, raiding a convenience store like it was the most normal thing to do.
After a while, I walked out of the store, now holding a tote bag stuffed with snacks and other random items I'd grabbed along the way. I glanced back at the flickering lights of the convenience store before looking up at the sky, still trapped in its eternal, eerie stillness.
"Time to head home…" I murmured, though the word "home" felt strangely distant in a world that wasn't entirely my own.
The walk back to the antique shop felt surreal, each step carrying me closer to a place that looked like home but didn't quite feel like it. As I approached the store, its shadowy outline loomed larger, the familiar creak of the sign swinging softly in the still air.
I reached the door and instinctively grabbed the handle. Locked. Of course.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Figures..." I muttered.
But I knew better. The shop had its quirks, and growing up here meant I knew all its secrets. I made my way around the side to a small window. The latch was tricky but manageable if you knew where to press. I fiddled with it for a moment before it popped open with a quiet click.
"Still works," I said to myself, climbing inside.
The room I entered was pitch black, the faint smell of old wood and antiques filling the air. I fumbled for the light switch near the door and flipped it on. The sudden brightness felt jarring in the oppressive silence. Everything was just as I'd left it—or, at least, a reflection of it. Shelves lined with trinkets, pottery, and old books cast long shadows on the walls.
It was too quiet, eerily so.
I made my way through the shop, each creak of the wooden floorboards echoing unnaturally. My destination was clear: that room. The one that had started all of this.
The door stood at the far end of the shop, partially ajar as if waiting for me. A chill ran down my spine, but I pressed forward. With each step, the air seemed to grow heavier, like the room itself was aware of my approach.
I paused at the threshold, staring into the dimly lit interior. The single bulb overhead cast flickering light across the mirrors, each one reflecting endless versions of the room—and of me. The chair still sat in the middle, ominously inviting.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.
As I sat in the chair at the center of the room, I leaned back, scanning the endless reflections of myself. "Alright! I'm here! Who are you? Tell me! I brought a lot of snacks!" My voice echoed faintly, bouncing off the mirrors, but the room stayed eerily silent. No shadows moved, no whispers followed. Just... nothing.
The oppressive quiet gnawed at my nerves, so I grabbed one of the snack bags—a bag of chips—and tore it open. Not to eat, but to test something.
Taking a chip in my fingers, I flicked it toward one of the mirrors. Swoosh!
My breath caught. The chip didn't bounce back—it disappeared, slipping into the mirror as though the surface were water.
My eyes widened. It's true...
I grabbed another chip, my hands trembling slightly, and threw it at a different mirror. Swoosh! It vanished again.
The adrenaline coursing through me was impossible to ignore now. I stood, clutching the open bag of chips, and moved to another mirror. This time, I tossed a chip more deliberately, watching as it disappeared through the glass, leaving behind faint ripples like disturbed water.
I swallowed hard, then took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing..." I murmured, leaning closer to the mirror. Slowly, I pressed my hand to the surface. It yielded like liquid, and I could feel the faint chill of the other side pulling at me. Without letting myself overthink it, I pushed forward until my head was through.
To Be Continue.