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Emily’s heart was pounding as she and Jacob reached the top of the stairs. The dark hallway stretched out before them, the shadows seeming deeper and more menacing in the early morning light. The house was silent, save for the faint creaking of the old wood under their feet. The crash that had jolted them from sleep still echoed in Emily’s mind, the sudden, sharp noise out of place in the stillness of dawn.
Jacob swallowed hard, his hand clutching the banister. “What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know,” Emily whispered, her voice trembling. “But we need to find out.”
They moved slowly down the hallway, toward the room with the mirror. The door was closed, but as they approached, Emily noticed a faint line of light seeping from underneath. She stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
“Do you hear that?” Jacob asked, his voice barely audible.
Emily strained her ears, and there it was again—the whispering. It was the same low, unintelligible murmuring she had heard the night before, only now it seemed louder, more insistent, as if the voices were arguing amongst themselves.
“What do we do?” Jacob asked, his eyes wide with fear.
Emily hesitated, fear clawing at her insides. But something inside her told her they had to see what was going on, that they had to face whatever was behind that door. “We have to go in,” she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
With a deep breath, Emily reached out and grasped the doorknob, her hand trembling. She turned it slowly, the old metal cold against her skin. The door creaked as it swung open, revealing the room beyond.
The first thing Emily noticed was that the sheet her parents had used to cover the mirror was gone, lying crumpled on the floor. The mirror itself was uncovered, reflecting the dim light filtering through the curtains. And standing before it, his back to them, was their father.
“Dad?” Emily’s voice was shaky as she took a step into the room. David didn’t respond. He was standing perfectly still, staring into the mirror, his reflection oddly distorted, as if the glass itself was warping around him.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Jacob asked, his voice laced with fear.
Still, David didn’t respond. It was as if he was in a trance, completely unaware of their presence. Emily took another step forward, her eyes fixed on the mirror. The whispers grew louder, more frantic, as if the voices were urging David to do something.
And then, without warning, David raised his hand and smashed it into the mirror. The glass shattered with a deafening crash, the pieces raining down around him like shards of ice. The whispers stopped abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence.
“Dad!” Emily and Jacob screamed in unison, rushing forward to pull him away from the broken mirror. Blood was dripping from David’s hand, staining the floor red.
David blinked, as if waking from a deep sleep. He looked down at his hand in confusion, then at the broken mirror. “What… what happened?” he asked, his voice dazed.
“You broke the mirror!” Jacob exclaimed, his voice trembling. “Why did you do that?”
David shook his head, his face pale. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember… I was just… standing here.”
Emily felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She had seen the look on her father’s face before he had smashed the mirror. It wasn’t just confusion—it was fear. Fear of whatever he had seen in the glass.
