Chapter 5 – The Mirror That Doesn't Reflect

I wasn't in the photo anymore.

My seat, the one I had sat in since the beginning of the year, was empty. Just like Matsuda's.

A dull, nauseating pressure coiled around my chest. My hands trembled as I held the frame, my fingers turning white from how hard I was gripping it.

I was still here.

Wasn't I?

I dug my nails into my arm. The pain felt real. My breathing felt real. My heart was still hammering in my chest.

So why?

Why was I disappearing?

The walls of my room felt thinner. The air heavier. It was as if something was pressing against reality, stretching it like fragile glass.

I needed to see myself.

I turned toward the mirror.

And froze.

The reflection was… wrong.

---

The Reflection That Watches

At first glance, I was still there. But something felt off.

I stepped closer. So did my reflection. My breath fogged up the glass.

Then I saw it.

My reflection was smiling.

A sick, distorted smile stretched across its face, one I knew I wasn't making. My real mouth was trembling, my lips pressed into a tight, pale line.

But in the mirror—my teeth were showing.

A horrible grin.

I stumbled back, my pulse hammering.

My reflection stayed where it was.

Still smiling.

Then—it raised a hand.

My stomach turned to ice.

I hadn't moved.

My reflection wasn't me anymore.

Then, with slow, deliberate movements—

It placed a finger against its lips.

Shhh.

My vision swam. I spun around, refusing to look at it any longer. My breathing was shallow, panicked. I needed to leave. I needed to—

I needed to what?

I blinked. The thought slipped away, dissolving like fog. My head ached, something pressing against the inside of my skull.

What was I doing again?

I stared at my hands. My fingers were trembling.

Where… was I supposed to go?

My mind felt like it was breaking apart, thoughts slipping through the cracks, vanishing into nothing.

I tried to hold onto something—anything.

And then, through the ringing in my ears, I heard it again.

A whisper.

"You're late."

---

A House That Shouldn't Exist

I ran.

I didn't stop to think. I didn't check if my reflection was still watching. I just grabbed my jacket and bolted out the door.

The hallway was empty.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I called out. My voice sounded wrong, like it was swallowed by something before it could fully form.

No answer.

I stepped forward. The floorboards creaked too loudly.

The walls… shifted.

I stopped breathing.

They weren't walls anymore.

They were bookshelves.

Endless, stretching shelves, filled with objects that shouldn't be here. The same shelves from the room beneath the school.

My bedroom door was gone.

I wasn't home.

I had never left.

A wave of nausea crashed over me. Reality was slipping.

I turned sharply, desperate to find an exit, but the shelves only stretched further.

Rows and rows of forgotten things.

The sneaker.

The broken phone.

The school ID with the name scratched out.

And then—

A small, silver pocket mirror.

I stared at it. My fingers twitched. I didn't want to pick it up. I didn't want to look.

But I had to.

I reached out.

My fingertips brushed the surface.

And then—

Cold hands grabbed my shoulders.

A voice breathed against my ear.

"Don't turn around."

---

The Thing That Knows Your Name

Every nerve in my body screamed.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

The hands tightened. Fingers too long. Too many joints. Pressing, digging into my skin.

A voice, low and distant, echoed through the endless rows of shelves.

"You shouldn't be here."

I swallowed thickly. My mind raced, searching for something—anything—that would make this stop.

"Who are you?" My voice cracked.

A pause.

Then—laughter.

Low, breathless laughter, curling around me like smoke.

"You already know."

I shut my eyes. My pulse roared in my ears. The hands didn't move.

The thing behind me wasn't breathing.

It wasn't alive.

And yet… it spoke.

"Do you want to leave?"

I nodded, barely able to move my head.

The hands tightened.

"Then forget."

Something cracked inside my skull.

A sharp, splintering sensation, like my mind was being pried open.

I gasped, my vision flashing white. Memories spilled, twisted, unraveled—who was I? Where was I? Why was I here?

Everything felt distant. Detached.

My name—what was my name?

I felt my lips move, but no sound came out.

I couldn't remember.

I couldn't remember my own name.

The hands loosened. The presence behind me faded.

I swayed on my feet, dizzy, empty.

Then—

The shelves were gone.

I was back in my room.

The mirror on my desk was shattered.

And in the broken shards, I saw myself.

But I wasn't smiling anymore.

Because there was no one there.