The Mirror's Edge

1)The Mirror's Edge

Sophie stood before the full-length mirror in the hallway, frowning at her reflection. There was something odd about the way she looked today, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her hair, usually a deep brown, looked lighter, almost golden. Her eyes—those unmistakable blue eyes—appeared slightly too wide, as if someone had altered their shape. The sharpness of her jawline seemed more defined, too, the way it might look in a photograph after some touch-up. She reached up to brush her hair behind her ear, but when her fingers made contact, she felt the coldness of the mirror's glass against her skin.

It wasn't the reflection that unnerved her—it was the sensation of touch. It felt real, but it shouldn't have.

Sophie jerked her hand back, breathing in sharply. No, she thought, this was ridiculous. She was just tired. It had been a long week of work, late nights, and not enough sleep. She looked at her reflection again, trying to shake off the feeling of wrongness, but it lingered.

She turned and walked down the hallway, the old wooden floors creaking under her weight. The house had always felt large and empty, the kind of place where shadows never seemed to disappear. A strange sense of isolation had clung to the place for as long as she could remember, though she couldn't exactly explain why. Maybe it was the history of the house—an old Victorian mansion on the outskirts of town, its design as impractical as it was grand. Or maybe it was just that it felt like something out of a dream.

Sophie stopped at the kitchen door. She should make a cup of tea. Maybe that would clear her head. The kettle was sitting on the stove, waiting to be filled, the dim light from the hallway casting long shadows across the room.

She moved forward and reached for the kettle, but just as her fingers brushed the handle, she froze. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught something—a movement in the reflection of the window above the sink.

Her pulse quickened. She turned toward the window, expecting to see a figure outside, perhaps a bird or a stray cat, but there was nothing. Nothing real, anyway. The reflection in the glass wasn't of the kitchen she was standing in. It was the hallway, just behind her.

She spun around, and her heart skipped a beat.

The hallway was empty.

But in the window's reflection, a man stood, facing her. He was dressed in a dark suit, his face obscured by the shadows, though Sophie could tell he was watching her. There was no one in the hallway behind her—no one in the kitchen, either. Yet the reflection in the window was clear as day. The man was there. He had to be. She could see the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides, his posture unnervingly still.

Sophie swallowed hard and took a cautious step back, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Was it a trick of the light?

A voice—cold, familiar, and strange—whispered in her ear. "You've seen him before."

Her blood turned to ice. She had.

Sophie couldn't remember where, but she had seen this man. She'd seen him in the mirror just moments ago, standing behind her in the hallway. She had seen him in her dreams for weeks now, always standing just outside her vision, never close enough to touch, but close enough to make her shiver.

She turned toward the hallway again, moving as if in slow motion, and peeked around the corner. The space was empty, as it had been when she checked earlier. There was nothing there.

But when she turned back to the kitchen window, the man was still there.

Her eyes were locked on him now, and the whisper in her ear grew louder. "He's waiting for you."

Her pulse raced. Sophie felt the bile rise in her throat. It was impossible. She hadn't heard anyone enter the house. The doors had been locked, the windows closed. She was alone.

Or was she?

Her mind swirled, grappling for clarity. She'd been living in this house for years, and yet...

Was this even her house anymore?

The man in the window didn't move, but Sophie could feel his presence pulling at her, like the gravity of the moon's pull on the tides. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the window latch and pulled it open.

A cold gust of wind hit her face, making her gasp. Her fingers tingled as she reached outside, half-expecting to touch something—or someone—waiting just beyond the frame. But the moment she extended her hand, her wrist brushed against something hard. Something familiar.

She recoiled, pulling her hand back, and stared at the thing she had just touched: a mirror.

A perfect, full-length mirror, identical to the one in the hallway, was leaning against the window frame. It hadn't been there before. Sophie blinked, her breath catching in her throat. It was... wrong. How had it gotten there?

She reached for it cautiously, her fingers grazing the glass. The reflection stared back at her, her own face just as it had been when she looked in the hallway mirror. But this time, she noticed something new.

In the reflection, the man stood behind her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his face now visible—a stranger's face, pale and cold. His lips moved, but no sound came.

What was happening?

And then, with a sharp crack, the mirror shattered.

Sophie stumbled backward, the pieces of glass tinkling to the floor, but when she looked up again, the man was gone. The window was empty.

For a moment, everything felt still. Too still. She reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, feeling the coldness where he had been.

And then she felt it. Her own hand. It wasn't her hand.

---

Hey!! Welcome to the first chapter of my second Wattpad story. If you've read The Heartstone, you're in for a bit of a shock—this one's darker, quieter, and more... unsettling. No chaotic magic duels or witty banter here, just creeping shadows and the kind of chills that make you glance over your shoulder.

I love switching it up because, well, I'm like an onion. I have layers. Some sweet, some sharp, and apparently, some that belong in the Twilight Zone.

Thanks for diving into this ominous little corner of my imagination. And remember—if the mirror in your house starts acting weird, maybe just... don't look too long.

– Riles 🌙