The Ghost in the Mirror

March 1, 2025

by Icie

Every morning, I came home just after sunrise, exhausted from my night shift. It was always the same routine—take off my boots, unwind for a few minutes, and try to sleep before my body caught its second wind. My wife, Lena, would be getting ready for work, and we’d exchange a few words before she left.

That morning was no different. She kissed me goodbye, and I was finally alone in our quiet house. I sat on the edge of our bed, rubbing my sore feet, when I noticed something strange in the mirror across the room.

The hallway leading to our bathroom had a large mirror that reflected part of the bedroom. I wasn’t looking directly at it, but from the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow move.

At first, I thought it was just a trick of the light. I turned the TV down, my heart suddenly uneasy. Then I heard it—creak. A slow, deliberate footstep in the hallway.

I froze. Another creak.

Something was stepping out of the mirror.

I turned my head quickly, but there was nothing there. The hallway was empty. But then, creak—it was closer now, just at the edge of the bed.

I sat motionless, barely breathing. Whatever it was, it wasn’t visible, but I could feel it. The air was heavy, like the room had been sealed off from the outside world.

Then, the worst thing happened.

Another creak, but this time—it came from behind me.

My whole body turned ice-cold. How could it have moved past me without me seeing? Had it gone through me?

Panic took over. I shot up from the bed, knocking over the remote control, and ran straight out of the room. My heart was racing as I stood in the hallway, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

After a few deep breaths, I decided to grab my phone. If there was something in that room, I wanted proof.

I stepped back inside cautiously, the floor eerily silent now. I snapped a photo. At first glance, nothing seemed unusual, but then I saw it—above the bed, a faint glowing orb.

I took another picture. The orb was bigger, closer.

A chill ran down my spine. It was moving toward me.

I quickly took a final shot down the mirrored hallway. There, reflected in the glass, was another orb—hovering near the place where I had first heard the footsteps.

When Lena got home, I showed her the photos. She studied them, then casually mentioned, “I slept on your side of the bed last night.”

That sent another wave of unease through me. I had always heard that mirrors could act as doorways. But what had we let in?

We lived in that house for years. The strange occurrences only started after we remodeled and installed that mirror. Whatever had been using it—I hope it stayed behind when we moved.

But sometimes, even in our new home, I still hear a faint creak in the floorboards when no one is there.

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