The Reflection's Desire

I moved into the house because it was cheap… too cheap. But I didn’t question

it. A place to sleep is a place to sleep — even if the last

owner disappeared. In the bedroom, there was a single window facing a brick wall.

No view. No light. Just darkness. But the strange part wasn’t the

wall. It was the glass. It reflected the room behind me… perfectly.

Too perfectly. The first night, I woke up and saw myself in the window. Except… I wasn’t

moving. But my reflection was. It sat up slowly while I was still

lying down. I tried to brush it off. Stress. Lack of sleep.