Clara had never been particularly fond of thrift stores, but something about the little shop on Willow Lane drew her in that rainy afternoon. The bell over the door jingled as she stepped inside, and the musty scent of old wood and forgotten memories made her wrinkle her nose.
She wandered aimlessly, brushing her fingers over worn books and chipped teacups, until a large, full-length mirror caught her eye. Its frame was ornate, carved with swirling patterns of leaves and flowers, and though the gold paint had faded, it had a strange elegance that spoke to her.
“Ah, you have a good eye,” the shopkeeper said, appearing from between the shelves. “That mirror’s been here for decades. Came from some old mansion up north. Yours for fifty.”
Clara hesitated. Fifty dollars wasn’t much, but she didn’t need a mirror. Still… she couldn’t stop staring. There was something about it, almost as if it was waiting for her. She paid, carried it home, and placed it in her bedroom.
The first night, nothing unusual happened. She admired it from time to time, thinking it was the perfect addition to her room. But on the second night, she noticed something strange.
Clara had been brushing her hair when she caught a movement in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. She turned sharply, but her bedroom was empty. Shaking her head, she told herself she’d imagined it.
The next morning, she laughed nervously to herself as she described it to her roommate, Jenna. “Old mirrors are creepy sometimes,” she said.
But the mirror didn’t stop.
At first, it was small things. Objects in the reflection slightly out of place, shadows moving where none should exist. Clara thought she was losing her mind.
Then came the dreams. Every night, she dreamed of herself doing things she hadn’t done yet walking down streets she’d never been on, talking to strangers she didn’t know, smiling at people she would never meet.
One morning, Clara woke up to find a small note on her dresser in neat, unfamiliar handwriting. “You’re ready.”
Her heart raced. Who was leaving these notes? She had lived alone in the apartment for years, and Jenna was away on a work trip.
That evening, she stared at the mirror for hours, trying to see what it wanted. And then she noticed it. her reflection didn’t quite match her movements anymore. When she lifted her hand, the reflection smirked instead of copying her.
Clara stepped back. The reflection raised an eyebrow. She gasped, and the figure in the mirror tilted its head slowly.
“You’ve seen enough,” it whispered though its lips hadn’t moved.
“Who… who are you?” Clara stammered.
“I’m you,” it said, “and I know the things you’ll do. The choices you haven’t made yet, the secrets you hide, the life you refuse to live.”
Clara’s knees buckled. She stumbled back.
“You’re scared,” it continued, “because you know I’m right. You can’t run from what’s coming. But I can guide you or I can replace you.”
The room grew cold. Clara’s reflection began to step forward in the glass, moving independently of her. She tried to scream, but no sound came.
With a sudden rush, it lunged. The mirror didn’t break, but Clara felt a sharp pull, like icy water dragging her into the glass. She tried to resist, but the reflection’s grip was stronger than her own body.
And then, just as suddenly, she was free. The mirror was silent. Her reflection stared back at her, perfectly normal, as if nothing had happened.
Clara backed away, trembling, and made a decision. The next morning, she returned the mirror to the thrift store.
The shopkeeper smiled knowingly. “Not for everyone,” he said.
As she walked away, she felt the memory of those eyes her eyes, but not watching her from behind. She shivered. She would never forget the feeling of that reflection knowing her better than she knew herself.
And deep down, she feared it wasn’t gone.
