Annette’s Mirror
It was just a sleepover.
Annette had invited three friends.
Pillow fights, movies, popcorn.
Normal stuff.
Except for the mirror.
It stood in her room, tall and antique.
Framed in dark wood with strange carvings — faces, maybe?
No one remembered seeing it before.
“I found it in the attic,” Annette said.
“It’s cool, right?”
That night, they played truth or dare.
Someone dared Kim to say “I see you” three times into the mirror.
She laughed, did it.
Then screamed.
“She grabbed me!” Kim cried.
“No one grabbed you,” Annette said, flipping the light back on.
But Kim’s arm had red marks.
Like fingers.
They all agreed to sleep with the light on.
But the mirror… shimmered.
Even when the lights were off.
Emily was the next to go.
She woke up staring at herself.
Except it wasn’t herself.
The girl in the mirror… smiled when she didn’t.
She blinked.
And the reflection didn’t.
Emily backed away.
And the mirror version stepped forward.
She vanished that night.
In the morning, her sleeping bag was empty.
The mirror?
Now had two girls inside.
One looked like Emily.
The other smiled too much.
Sasha begged to go home.
Annette locked the door.
“It won’t let us leave,” she whispered.
One by one, the girls disappeared.
Only Annette remained.
She stared into the mirror.
And whispered,
“Let me out now.”
A voice answered:
“But you let us in.”