I walked in, the floorboards eerily creaking with every step. It was quiet. Too quiet. My bed looked as if it hadn't been touched for thousands of years. Where is everyone? The smell of the room suddenly reminded me of white walls and antiseptics. I looked around, peering into my closet. It was dark. Click. The light turns on. Flicker. Flicker. After a moment, I see a small movement, one so subtle you wouldn't know it was there. I stepped closer. Another shuffle. Closer. Another shuffle. I reached my hand out to move the black sweater from the hanger. The flickering gets faster. Time slows. My hand gets closer and closer and then... I moved it. Nothing. This was all my imagination. 

I turn around to see my mirror. I smile, thinking I was hearing things, but strangely, the mirror doesn't do the same. The girl in the mirror isn't me. She smiles, a horrifying, twisted smile. I hear a heartbeat. It gets louder and louder every second. It isn't mine. My head starts spinning. Where am I? The girl gets closer. I can't breathe. Then, I heard it. A raspy voice that sounds as if it came from the depths of the underworld. "Goodbye." It all goes dark.

My eyes fluttered open to a single ray of light coming from my window. Whoa, what a weird dream, I thought. I got up, my back aching. Why was I sleeping on the floor? Did I faint? I looked around, my room tidy and neat, nothing like the dream I just had. Hesitating, I looked back at the mirror. Nothing. I stepped closer. Nothing. I sighed in relief. I noticed something… different. My mom tells me never to touch my mirror, as it leaves fingerprints, but there it was. A handprint. Faint, almost imperceptible. I grabbed a cloth and started scrubbing. I scrubbed harder and faster. Why is this stain not going away?! I stopped for a moment, looking closer at the mirror. Is the stain…on the inside?

 “Camila!” Mom called, “Get ready for school!”

“Okay!” I yelled back, “5 minutes!” I looked at myself. 

I put on a cute new crop top and jeans.

I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs, the sweet, delicious smell of pancakes hitting my nose as soon as I entered the kitchen. “Hey Mom!”

“Hey honey!” Mom exclaimed, “Did you sleep well? You look tired.”

“I’m fine, just going to Max’s house before school.”

“Okay! Don’t forget to take your meds!”

I hated how the pills made everything feel slower, quieter, like my thoughts were wrapped in cotton. “Bye mom!”

I grabbed my keys off the coffee table and headed out the door, the crisp, cool morning breeze hitting my face in an instant. The streets were quiet, the Sun just starting to peek over the horizon. I was so lost in my thoughts about the dream, the handprint, and everything else going on that I didn’t see Max sitting on his front porch twirling his keys between his fingers. 

“Echo!” Echo is the name Max gave for me whenever I do or say the exact same thing he was going to do. “Hey,” Max said, “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Just a weird dream.”

“Still getting those? At this point the evil twin is gonna steal your soul!” Max laughed, but stopped once he saw my face. “Echo, seriously, what happened? Are you hearing things again?”

“No Max, the girl in the mirror, she said ‘goodbye’ and everything went dark. When I woke up, I was on the floor and there was a handprint on the mirror.” I whispered, the memories of me scrubbing made my stomach turn. “The handprint, it looked like it was inside the glass Max. Inside.” 

Max stopped twirling his keys. A flicker of worry flashed across his face. “Okay, that’s new. Are you sure you didn’t just touch it in your sleep or something?” 

“No,” I said, “I know that for a fact. I never touched it.”

“Okay, well if it makes you feel any better, you can sleep at my place tonight.” 

“No, it’s fine.”

Max gently held my hand. “I got you. Don’t worry.”

We start walking and I put my hand inside my side pocket to get out my phone. Instead, I feel a small, folded piece of paper. Weird.

I try to distract myself from all of this with a conversation.“You know, maybe Mr. Henderson can bore me enough with his lectures so that I forget all about it.”

Max chuckles, “Possibly.”

After school, I go straight to my room. I plop onto the bed and get the piece of paper out. Carefully, I unfold it. I freeze in shock. It’s a picture… of me? I see a girl, staring at herself in the mirror, only in a room that was decorated differently. She was wearing a small gold bracelet. 

Okay, this could all just be a coincidence… Right?

I take my phone out and turn it on, as I do so, I see my reflection on the black screen. I smile. It smiles back, only a second later. Huh…weird. Suddenly, my bedside lamp starts flickering. I lean over the side of the bed and I see the outlet. The lamp is unplugged. My stomach drops. How is the light on? Why are my reflections all wrong?

My heart begins pounding against my chest. The lamp flickers again. Once. Twice. I picked up the lamp cord. Cold. Unplugged. 

“No,” I whispered to myself, “No, no, no, no, no.” I looked back at my phone screen. Blank. Empty. I hold up two fingers. My reflection does. Three. My reflection does it slightly slower, almost imperceptible to the human eye. But I noticed. I put the phone face-down on my bedside table, forcing myself to think. After a moment, everything stops. 

I pulled out my notebook and started to jot down a list of possible things that are happening to me.

Possible Explanations

1. Sleep Issues

2. Stress

3. Electrical problems

4. Paranormal??

For a moment, I stared at my screen and added one more.

- Someone is messing with me.

The thought made my chest tighten and my stomach twist. The house felt wrong. 

Not haunted, just… disturbed, like someone had moved it without leaving a trace.

I checked the door again. Unlocked. I never leave the doors unlocked. My chair wasn’t pushed in. It was angled slightly away from the desk. The window was slightly open as well, the cold air seeping inside. 

A slow, sinking thought crept into my mind.

Someone has been here. Someone is watching me.

Nothing was stolen. Nothing was broken.

Just moved.

That was worse.

I glanced at the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, perfectly still. Too still.

If somebody was messing with me, they were really good at it.

My eyes drifted over to my desk where my journal lays. It is open. Weird. I got up, creeping towards it.  I don’t remember writing this. The words were scribbled, unrecognizable. It said NETSIL but all the letters reversed. What does it mean? I have a feeling all of this has to do with me and the mirror. Hands shaking, I picked up the journal and held it up to the mirror. LISTEN. The word was LISTEN.

I looked at myself in the mirror closer this time. I took in all the tiny little details. I leaned in so close that my breath fogged the glass, blurring my reflection for a moment. When the mist cleared, I saw it. The mirror girl wasn’t doing the same breathing patterns as me. She was wearing a small, gold bracelet. One that I have never owned before, the one from the photo... Who is she?

“Listen,” I whispered to the glass, “To what?” 

The mirror girl brought her finger up to her pale lips. The lights started to flicker. Slowly, the girl started to point towards the handprint. 

In fear, I pulled away from the mirror. I looked at it and pressed my ear against the smooth, cold glass. At first, I only heard the static of my fear. Then faintly, a dull thudding. Thump thump. Pause. Thump thump. I dropped the journal. It was the heartbeat I heard in my dream. It was trapped inside the mirror. The mirror girl mimicked my movements, only her face looked scared, desperate.

She mouthed, “Help me..” 

I staggered back from the mirror in shock. 

Someone is messing with me. 

The idea still made the most sense.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time. Late. I must have been standing here longer than I thought.

As I turned to leave the room, something near the door caught my attention. A footprint.

Faint. Smudged into the carpet like it had been brought in from outside. It was small. Smaller than my dad’s or mom’s. Definitely not mine.

My heart beat faster and faster. My pulse roared in my ears. 

I checked the window again. Open wider now.

The cold air rushed in.

Someone had come in.

Or out.

No.

No.

This is all my imagination… Is it?

My mind raced a million miles per hour. 

The mirror girl whispered again. “Help me.” 

“Help how?”

I picked up the journal and frantically flipped through the pages. I get it. The backwards scribbles weren’t random. The mirror girl is trying to tell me something. One line stood out to me, basically burned into the page. Slowly, shaking, I held it up to the mirror. 

The letters rearranged into a single word. 

SWAP

Swap. 

Swap.

I figured it out.

Suddenly, the lamp went out. 

It all went dark.

A small ripple spread across the mirror, its power increasing with every passing second.

I hear it. The voice. The raspy, horrifying voice. 

Low.

Scraping.

Too close. Way too close.

“You solved it.” The mirror rippled again. “Now you take her place.” The darkness seemed to get closer.

I stumbled back. “No– no wait–!”

I turned to run. Suddenly, the mirror girl’s hand shot out of the glass, her cold icy fingers gripping my wrist. I screamed, my heels digging into the carpet, twisting, pulling.

But she was stronger.

The mirror rippled and opened into a doorway. I was pulled through. Swallowed hole.

Cold. Black.

Gone.

I hit the floor—Hard. Wood. My body feels like it shattered into a million pieces. 

This is my room, but… wrong. It’s darker. Warped. Like somebody rebuilt my room from memory, only everything is slightly off. I got up. I scrambled to the mirror. Now, I see my reflection staring back at me. Only thing, it isn’t mine anymore. The mirror girl smiled. Slow, unnatural. Seemingly… Victorious. 

All I see is red. 

I need to get out. 

I lunged at the mirror, my fist slamming against the cold, hard glass, screaming. The mirror girl was unfazed. 

No one can hear me. I’m all alone.

My breath fogged the air behind me. 

The voice. It whispered from the darkness of the mirror world. It is close. Too close. It whispered right behind my ear, a final echo of the nightmare that started it all.

“Goodbye.”

It all went dark. 

My eyes fluttered open, my body aching. All the memories came flooding back. I remember. I remember it all. I get up and stare at the mirror. Mirror Camila does the same. “Let me go!” I screamed, pounding my fists onto the mirror.

The glass didn’t move. No ripples. No cracks.

Just my own face staring back at me. Wide-eyed, shaking, terrified.

The pounding in my ears stopped. The silence was sudden, heavy.

My breathing slowed. My thoughts began slipping away. Slowly. One by one.

Something touched my foot, slightly warm. Hard. I looked down. 

The gold bracelet lay on the floor. 

My bracelet.

My chest tightened.

I remember it now.

The hospital room. The rough, itchy white sheets. The way the nurse had taken my bracelet away since I couldn’t stop twisting it tighter and tighter. The way Mom cried when the doctor said the word out loud.

Psychosis.

Hallucinations.

Schizophrenia-spectrum disorder.

I picked up the bracelet. It was warm because I was wearing it all day. I slipped it back onto my wrist. A perfect fit. In the mirror, my reflection did the same. Not a second too late or too early. Perfectly in sync.

It is because there was nobody else. There never was.

The mirror girl didn’t smile, she didn’t move nor speak.

She was only there when I needed her to be there.

LISTEN

It wasn’t a warning.

The mirror girl was trying to tell me something, but it wasn’t that. I was just trying to remind myself to listen to reality.

“Camila?” My mom’s voice called from downstairs, laced with worry, “Did you take your medications?” My throat closed. 

“I’m coming,” I said, so quiet that a mouse couldn’t hear. 

I looked at the mirror. She’s—-I’m... tired, slow, familiar. 

I stepped away from it. I looked back. Cold. Empty

Just glass. 

Just me.

As I walked downstairs, the weight of the bracelet, of it all, came crashing down on me. I remember. I remember it all.