The Gentle Voice in the Mirror

September 6, 2025

by Mozelle

2 min read

Story Premise 2 min read (319 words)

"When I was a child, around six or seven years old, my family stayed over at a relative’s house for a few nights. We all shared one big room, sleeping together on a large bed. I ended up sleeping closest to the window, which never really bothered me at that age. One night, as I […]"

When I was a child, around six or seven years old, my family stayed over at a relative’s house for a few nights. We all shared one big room, sleeping together on a large bed. I ended up sleeping closest to the window, which never really bothered me at that age.

One night, as I lay half-asleep, I suddenly heard a voice calling me. What was strange is that the voice used my middle name—something very few people ever called me. The sound was soft, sweet, and comforting, almost like a lullaby. It felt as though someone was gently singing me to sleep.

Curious, I got out of bed and followed the sound. It seemed to be leading me toward the tall mirror that stood in the corner of the room. When I looked into it, I didn’t see just myself—I saw a young girl standing there. She was dressed in a white gown that seemed to shimmer, and her hair fell neatly to her shoulders. She looked calm, almost too beautiful to be real.

At first, I froze, unsure of what I was seeing. Then fear took over, and I ran back to the bed. As I jumped under the blanket, my elbow scraped against something sharp sticking out from the wooden frame near the window.

I whispered what happened to my mother, but she told me gently that it must have been a dream. I tried to believe her and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to find everyone already in the kitchen. I walked back to the mirror, remembering what I had seen. Then I glanced down at my elbow—and there it was: a fresh scratch, proof that the night before had been real.

I never spoke much about it afterward, but the memory of that girl in the mirror—and her beautiful voice—has never left me.

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