Life in the Mirror
Someone lives in my mirror, I know this because, every night, at midnight, my room temperature drops, and I hear a squeaky sound, near my closet, where my mirror stands, and there he was. Three nights ago, as I recall, I was battling with insomnia, I lay helplessly on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I wandered far away from the reality of the world, into my imagination. I jolted back in fear, as something fell on the floor. I checked my watch, at midnight. I wore my pyjamas, taking slow and sluggish strides to switch on my light. I loved to sleep with my lights off, I squinted my eyes a bit, to adjust to the light. I walked past the door and the mirror. I stopped in my tracks, as I saw a reflection— a different reflection, different from mine. I faced the mirror, I stared at it for a while, something was off. "Maybe, I'm just hallucinating. I should get some sleep." I said to myself, yawning as though I were a hungry lion. I woke up the next morning, as the sun peeked th...