Reflections of the Unknown

A thin beam of moonlight seeped through the half-open curtains, casting silver streaks across the polished wooden floor. Aarav sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers gripping the edge of his blanket. He wasn't sure what had woken him up—the rustling of leaves outside or the faint hum that seemed to come from nowhere. His eyes landed on the antique mirror standing in the corner of his dimly lit room.

It was an old, full-length mirror with an intricately carved wooden frame. A relic from his grandfather's time, it had always been there, standing tall yet unnoticed. But tonight, something felt... different.

He frowned, leaning forward slightly. His reflection mimicked his every move, as expected. Yet, something was off. It wasn't an obvious distortion, not a trick of the light, but a lingering unease. It was the way his reflection's eyes seemed to hold an awareness of their own, as if it wasn't just mimicking him—it was watching.

Aarav swallowed. His heart pounded against his ribs. He stood up, stepping closer to the mirror. His breath fogged up the glass slightly, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. His reflection did the same. Normal. Everything seemed normal.

But then—

His reflection blinked twice.

Aarav had only blinked once.

A shiver ran down his spine. His hands turned cold. He took a step back, his mind scrambling for logic. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe it was just exhaustion. But then it happened again—this time, his reflection moved its fingers before he did.

His chest tightened. He turned away, rubbing his eyes, willing himself to shake off the eerie feeling. Maybe he just needed sleep. Maybe this was nothing.

But as he turned off the bedside lamp, a whisper brushed against his ear.

"Don't turn your back on me."

Aarav's breath hitched. His body froze. The voice was soft, almost indistinct, but it came from right behind him—where only the mirror stood.

Slowly, heart hammering, he turned his head.

His reflection was still there. But this time, it wasn't copying him anymore.

It stood still, watching. And then—without Aarav moving an inch—it smiled.