Merve had just moved into an old apartment, but something felt… off. The first few nights, she noticed strange shadows in her bedroom mirror. She dismissed it as her imagination, blaming exhaustion. But as the nights passed, she realized—the reflection wasn’t hers.
One night, as she glanced at the mirror, she noticed something chilling: her reflection wasn’t copying her movements. Normally, it should mimic her every action, but this time, it stood still, staring at her with an eerie smile.
Merve took a step back, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Then, the reflection suddenly tilted its head and whispered in a soft, raspy voice:
“Did you really think you were alone?”
The lights flickered, the room turned ice-cold, and the figure in the mirror lunged at her. Merve screamed and bolted for the door, but as she passed the mirror, she felt a cold hand grabbing her arm, trying to pull her in. She yanked herself free and smashed the mirror onto the floor.
From that day on, she avoided mirrors. But sometimes, in dimly lit reflections, she swore she could see a shadow… watching her, smiling.
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