Uttkarsh Panwar
@acidpoxx
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"The Reflection"
I always hated my mother’s old mirror. It hung in the hallway, a towering antique with a tarnished silver frame, and whenever I passed it, I felt uneasy. One night, I was passing by and saw my reflection smiling back at me. But I wasn’t smiling.
I froze, staring at my own face in the glass. The smile grew wider, stretching unnaturally across my reflection’s face. I turned to walk away, but my reflection didn't move. It just stood there, grinning.
Suddenly, it raised its hand and waved.
I backed away, feeling my breath hitch. Then, slowly, my reflection stepped out of the mirror.
And it wasn’t me anymore. 0 reply
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