The Mirror’s Reflection
I was born with a sixth sense for the wrongness that clings to certain walls. Every house my family rented hummed with a low, persistent dread, as if the previous...
I was born with a sixth sense for the wrongness that clings to certain walls. Every house my family rented hummed with a low, persistent dread, as if the previous...
I’ve had an odd eye for detail my whole life, always noticing the placement of objects, the order of things. It’s a blessing in retail, where I work, but a...
The morning of March 4th, 2023, was wrong from the start. I woke at 4:47 AM, a full three hours before my alarm. The clock blinked accusingly in the dark....
My aunt Rosalind used to tell me about the summer she spent at her great-grandmother’s farmhouse, a place called the Hollow because it sat in a dip between two hills...
The house on Kettlewell Lane had a smell, not of decay or mold, but of ozone and old copper, like the air after a lightning storm. My family and I...
I’ve always had a talent for hearing things that aren’t there. Not in a crazy way, but in a way that makes my skin prickle and my heart slow to...
The school bus wheezed to a stop at the end of the gravel lane, its brakes sighing like a tired animal. I was twelve, and the October air had that...
Ever since my brother Daniel passed, the house on Maple Street has felt wrong. It’s not the creaking floorboards or the drafts that worry me; it’s the silence that isn’t...
The old Victorian house on Cedar Lane had always creaked at night, but for the past three weeks, the sounds had become more deliberate. Every time I passed the stairwell,...
I was sixteen when my mother’s second husband, Marcus, decided we needed to move back to his hometown to care for his aging grandmother, Eleanor. We left our cramped apartment...
It had been nearly four months since I first saw the crawling girl. I had almost convinced myself she was a product of a sleepless night, a trick of the...
The air in my grandmother’s house always tasted of dust and dried lavender, a sweetness that clung to the back of the throat like a lie. I’d been back for...
My name is Elara, and I’ve lived in the Atwood Flats for five years now. It’s a converted textile mill, all exposed brick and industrial-chic, but the charm wears thin...
The house on Birchwood Lane was our first real home, a two-story Victorian with a wraparound porch and a yard that sloped down to a creek. We’d moved there in...
My great-aunt Edna had a sixth sense for the spectral, or so the family whispered. She’d never stay in one house longer than a year, always citing ‘the draft’ or...
Ava and I have always shared a strange bond. It’s not something we talk about, but we both know. When I wake with a headache, I find her nursing the...
Elena had always been wary of the old house on Cedar Lane, but she’d lived there her whole life, ever since her parents inherited it from her grandmother. The creaks...
I never believed in inherited curses, not until the summer we moved into the old Harlow house. My grandmother on my mother’s side had been a ‘seer,’ as the family...
This is my first experience and my first story so it might not be as good as some. I am very scared of ghosts and have never thought they were...
Every visit to my childhood home brings a fresh unease, but this time the unease had a shape and a weight that pressed against my chest like a cold stone....
It was a Tuesday, or maybe a Wednesday, when the knocking started. I’d just moved into the attic apartment of a crumbling Victorian on the edge of the city, a...
The first time I noticed something was wrong was on a Tuesday. I had just moved into the old military housing on the outskirts of Fort Meridian with my husband,...
The summer heat clung to the walls of my flat like a second skin, and the ceiling fan only stirred the thick air into a sluggish swirl. I sat at...
My wife and I had just finished scrubbing the last of our faded affirmations off the bathroom mirror, leaving only the bold red countdown to our move to the coast....
Listening to the woods...
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