As I sit, breathing in the silence, soft light sneaks through the windows. Feels like peace, just for a second— Until that smile.
Not mine, but there, right in the mirror, lingering for too long, almost unnatural, curving in a way my lips never could done. My chest tightens—I laugh, nervously. It's nothing, I tell myself. Just my imagination, right?
But as I turn away, something pulls at the back of my mind, whispering—or maybe just a silence too loud, like waiting for a scream that never comes.
I glance back— And my reflection, staring hard. It blinks when I don't. Cold hands, shaky breath, I reach for the glass—it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like glass.
"Is that me?" I whisper, leaning closer— And then, just like that, I wake up.
Was it a dream? Feels real, though. I sit again, breathing in the silence, light sneaking softly through my windows. Feels like peace.
A nightmare that just cycles itself endlessly. Like a story that starts with the feeling of peace before the horror begins.
