With a heavy sigh, I stormed into the staff room, the force of my frustration causing the papers in my hands to flutter and swirl like angry birds before landing with a resounding thud on the shared table where Ruchi and Anjali sat, engrossed in their animated gossip. The room enveloped us in a cozy atmosphere, where the subdued murmurs of teachers formed a soft symphony, harmonizing with the gentle clinks of tea cups and coffee mugs. The walls of the room were adorned with a vibrant tapestry of student artwork, a gallery of memories captured in old photographs, and motivational posters that stood as beacons of inspiration amidst the hustle and bustle of the school day. Along the perimeter of the room, plush couches beckoned, their inviting cushions seemingly whispering promises of respite to the weary educators like me. Although a part of me yearned to sink into the comforting embrace of those couches, I knew that venting my frustrations was necessary, so I proceeded to do just that.
“I think the extra classes should only be for the students who are genuinely interested,” I huffed, taking a seat beside Ruchi. “This year’s badge is nothing but a pure menace.”
"You made the same claim last year," Ruchi remarked, her tone tinged with a hint of skepticism, as she delicately sipped her tea after neatly packing up her lunch.
"It was still bearable back then," I retorted, my voice laced with exasperation. "Everything was conducted online. I didn't have to endure the grueling task of standing for two straight hours, shouting to be heard, only to witness the students at the back nonchalantly doze off without a care."
"The aftermath of the pandemic has undeniably left its mark," Gupta sir chimed in, his voice carrying a note of lament. He joined our conversation, bringing with him the weariness etched on the faces of many other teachers as he took his usual spot beside Anjali. "It's as if the students have lost their motivation for learning and striving for excellence. The school that once held great importance in their lives has become nothing more than a source of amusement."
"Imagine, sir, it's just three extra hours of classes, and yet they seem utterly disoriented," Ruchi mused, shaking her head in disbelief. "Biology, touted as one of the most scoring subjects, has become an uphill battle for us teachers due to the ever-changing syllabus."
"I couldn't agree more," Sir concurred, bringing his clasped hands to rest on the table. His voice carried a touch of concern. "Your students, Ruchi, at least show some promise in biology. But mine...oh, mine are nowhere near that level. They are already struggling with the basics of ethers and esters. I dread to think how they'll fare when faced with even more complex equations."
"Chemistry was never my cup of tea either," I mused, a chuckle escaping my lips as I reached for my cup and took a sip. "English, on the other hand, has always been that.” Playfully shaking the cup, I triggered a chorus of laughter that momentarily lifted the heaviness in the staff room.
"But on a serious note," Anjali interjected, her voice laced with genuine concern, as she delicately removed her spectacles to wipe away a smudge. "I can't help but worry about this year's inter and high school badge and the looming specter of board exams. The students seem more preoccupied with social media antics than with the weight of these pivotal moments in their academic journey. I fear that when the reality finally hits them, they'll be ill-prepared for the magnitude of the challenges ahead."
"Don't worry, Anju," I reassured her, my hand tenderly resting on her shoulder, offering a small measure of solace. "Once they face their first assessments, the gravity of the situation will become abundantly clear to them. They'll realize the importance of early preparation."
"I hope so, I truly do," Anjali sighed, her expression tinged with worry. "I've seen it before, people who are fully aware of the consequences and know exactly how to handle a situation, yet they choose to ignore it, avoiding the necessary effort to save themselves from the ensuing hardships. It's as if they prefer to shield themselves from the pain that comes with doing the necessary actions, even though they know deep down what awaits them."
"True," Gupta sir nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Just like me whenever I lay my eyes on a laddu." His gaze lingered on a tempting treat tucked away inside Anjali's tiffin.
"Go ahead, help yourself," Anjali graciously offered the box, a playful shushing gesture accompanying her invitation.
"Just don't let my wife find out," Sir whispered conspiratorially, relishing the indulgence as he devored the laddu in a single bite.
"You know, you should-"
"Miss Ruchi Garg, Miss Anjali Singh, and Miss Amyra Sheikh are requested to come to the principal's office," a static voice abruptly interrupted our conversation, echoing through the room and demanding our attention.
"I repeat, Miss Ruchi Garg..."
"What could it be? It's our lunch hour," I mumbled, a sense of foreboding crawling up my spine, as we exchanged bewildered glances.
Together, we stepped out into the corridor, its walls adorned with soft boards decorated with cheerful "Happy Holidays" charts and festive decorations. My gaze wandered sideways, and time seemed to freeze as I laid eyes on a police jeep parked just outside. A nauseating sensation rose within me, causing me to momentarily halt, clutching the folds of my saree tightly in my trembling hands, while trying to collect my racing thoughts.
"Are you alright, Ira?" Ruchi's concerned voice reached me, her eyes filled with worry, mirroring my own, as she stopped in her tracks too.
"Why are the police here?" I pointed at the vehicle, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and confusion. "Why the fuck are they calling our names? What's happening?" The knot in my throat tightened, and a surge of panic threatened to engulf me.
"Stop being so paranoid," Anjali's voice carried a note of sternness, as she stepped closer, her grip on my shoulder grounding me. "It might have nothing to do with last night. Just act normal, okay?"
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, as I stammered, "No, I-I... I can't..." A sharp pain pierced through my chest, intensifying the chaos ravaging my mind.
My heart raced erratically, each beat like thunder in my ears, while my breaths grew shallow and rapid. My palms were moist with perspiration, a vice-like grip tightened around my throat. Rational thoughts abandoned me, leaving me at the mercy of irrational fears. A grip constricted my chest, and uncontrollable tremors shook my body. It felt as though I was losing control, the world was spinning out of reach. Desperately, I tried to regain composure, but it seemed like an insurmountable battle. Suffocating tendrils encased me, as the overwhelming terror threatened to consume every ounce of my being.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Ruchi's voice reached my ears, her hand gently placed over my racing heart, her touch a calming presence. "Sync your breath with the movement of my hand. Inhale... exhale... Good, you're doing great."
"Please, Amyra, don't be like this," Anjali implored, her voice steady as she grasped my shoulder, providing much-needed support. "Nothing will happen to you, to us. We'll get through this unscathed, trust me."
I nodded, wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks, while Ruchi reached out to tenderly wipe away the smudged kohl beneath my eyes. "I don't know about this," Ruchi admitted with a sigh, pulling away slightly.
"Mr. Peter, Mr. Shehzan, Mr. Adil, and Mr. Sharma are also requested to come to the principal's office. I repeat, Mr. Peter, Mr. Shehzan..."
"No, no way," my heart raced again, panic threatening to engulf me once more. "It's all of us. It's connected to us."
"Take a deep breath and calm the fuck down, Amyra!" Anjali's voice carried a mix of frustration and concern as she stepped back, her patience waning. "If you continue like this, you'll end up landing yourself in jail. Stop acting like a criminal, for God's sake." She turned her attention to a pale-faced Ruchi. "Are you going to follow her lead too?"
Ruchi shook her head, her voice calm as she uttered, "Amyra, try to remain composed. Let the guys handle the situation, alright?"
As I stood there, my mind began to drift, and the girl's face materialized vividly in my mind's eye. Her features were etched with fear and desperation, pleading for help. I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block out the haunting details, but it was too late. The gruesome scenes from the previous night flashed before me, each one more horrifying than the last.
The memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me in their overwhelming intensity. The darkness of the alley, the sound of muffled cries, and the sickening scent of fear permeated my senses once again. The weight of guilt settled heavily upon my shoulders, threatening to crush me under its burden.
I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me back to the present. Anjali's concerned gaze met mine, her voice gentle but firm. "Amyra, stay with us. Don't let your thoughts consume you. We don't know what this is about yet. We can't let fear paralyze us."
Taking a deep breath, I nodded, attempting to push the haunting images to the depths of my mind. The weight of uncertainty and impending danger hung in the air, but I couldn't let it break me. We had to face whatever awaited us together, with courage and resilience.
Steeling myself, I resumed walking alongside Ruchi and Anjali, our footsteps echoing in the corridor lined with colorful decorations. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, their familiar cheerful decorations now turning ominous in my eyes. The police jeep loomed outside, casting a shadow over our already heavy hearts
We reached the principal's office, and the door creaked open, revealing a tense atmosphere. Principal D’Souza sat behind his desk, his face displaying a mixture of concern and seriousness. Alongside him were two stern-looking police officers, dressed in their official uniforms. The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with anticipation.
"Please have a seat," Father Josh gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk, his voice betraying a hint of unease. I hesitated for a moment before taking a seat, my hands trembling slightly. The principal's expression gave nothing away, his face a mask of inscrutability.
The police officers introduced themselves as Officer Sharma and Officer Khan, their expressions devoid of any warmth. They exchanged a few words with the principal in hushed tones, casting occasional glances in my direction. The silence in the room was deafening, amplifying my anxiety.
"Ladies, we are here to discuss a matter of utmost importance," Officer Khan began, his gaze sweeping across the room. "There has been an incident that occurred last night, and we believe that some of you may have crucial information regarding it."
A hush fell over the room as his words sank in. We exchanged glances, a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and trepidation in our eyes. What had transpired? What did they suspect us of knowing?
The officer continued, his tone measured but with an underlying urgency. "We are investigating a serious crime, and we request your full cooperation. Please understand that this matter is of the utmost significance, and any information you can provide will aid us in our investigation."
“Let the others arrive too, we’ll start then,” Officer Sharma interjected.
The request to have the others join us added another layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. It was clear that this investigation was far-reaching, involving not just a few individuals but all of us who were involved. The officer's words hung in the air, intensifying the anticipation as we awaited the arrival of our colleagues.
One by one, the remaining teachers trickled into the room, their expressions a mixture of curiosity, concern, and bewilderment. The sight of my other friends only added to the tension. There’s no way this could be unrelated to the events of last night.
The room became crowded, with chairs arranged in a circle to accommodate everyone. The principal's office, in which I had often been called for administrative matters and discussions, now served as an unexpected arena for an unfolding investigation. The walls, adorned with framed certificates and accolades, seemed to bear witness to the gravity of the situation as I shuddered.
The principal, his normally composed demeanor slightly shaken, cleared his throat and addressed the assembled faculty. "Teachers, we find ourselves in an unprecedented situation. It is imperative that we cooperate fully with the authorities to shed light on the events that transpired."
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He paused, scanning the room, his eyes lingering on each face. "You are all here because you hold vital information, whether you might be aware of it or not. Since this matter does not concern our school, I’ll excuse myself for the time being. "
A moment of silence settled, punctuated by the nervous exchange of glances among us, as Father excused himself, leaving us alone with the formidable officers. They stood before us like sentinels of justice, their presence exuding an air of authority and determination. Every detail of their uniforms, meticulously pressed and adorned with intricate badges and emblems, spoke of their unwavering commitment to their duty. As the room fell into a reverent hush, the dim overhead light cast a glimmer on the polished stars embellishing their uniforms, emphasizing the weight of responsibility they carried.
The officer who had initially addressed us stepped forward once more, his voice a steady blend of reassurance and urgency. "We understand your surprise regarding this situation and the toll it takes on each of you. Let me cut straight to the heart of the matter." He paused, seeking a nod of approval from his senior officer, a silent affirmation to continue. With a somber expression, he unveiled a photograph, capturing the essence of a young girl whose striking beauty resonated with an unsettling familiarity.
"Sakshi Patel," he announced, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and determination. "She vanished without a trace last night, her last known location being Wildhawk, where she had been celebrating her friend's 22nd birthday. If you can recall the incidents of last night, you would already know why this concern you all. Still, if you can’t, here’s the evidence."
In a swift motion, he retrieved his phone from his back pocket, his fingers dancing nimbly across the screen. With an air of intrigue, he handed me the device, revealing a clip that transported us back to the vibrant ambiance of a bustling bar.
In the clip, a group of adults and teenagers had gathered at a bar, lively conversation filling the air around them. The adults sat at a table, drinks in hand, their faces animated as they chatted with the teenagers next to them. The teenagers, dressed in trendy clothes, smiled and nodded as they listened, their eyes bright with excitement. The bar hummed with energy as people came and went, the sound of laughter and music mingling with the clinking of glasses.
"It is evident," the officer mused, his tone pensive, "What a great bond you all share despite the generational gap." A flicker of seriousness crossed his countenance, dispelling any lingering mirth. "But the unsettling reality is that one of the young girls captured within this vibrant exchange has vanished."
Peter's impatience grew evident, his leg tapping rhythmically against the tiles, as he voiced his frustrations. "Are you implying something here? Those individuals were our former students. We were merely catching up on their lives."
"Easy there, sir,” The senior officer interjected, his voice calm yet authoritative. “We are not here for this. We are looking for any information you have, anything out of ordinary you people might have caught on to which could help this investigation.”
I pressed my lips together, a whirlwind of thoughts contained within, cautiously guarded from the prying eyes before me.
"We understand that you are adults and possess the freedom to make your choices," the officer continued, “We’re not here to lecture you about ethics and shit. But isn’t it a bit too much. You do realize how is a teacher and student relationship,” The officer showed us another clip where we were dancing with the kids and drinking together.
Peter's retort was swift, pointing to the clip as evidence of innocence. "I fail to see any impropriety here, we are not their teachers anymore, are we? All present are of legal drinking age, and there are no obscene activities transpiring. I find no legal grounds for your intrusion."
Adil stepped forward, his hand raised in a conciliatory gesture, urging Peter to halt his outburst. "Officer, I believe our primary objective in this interview should be delving into the details surrounding the disappearance of the girl. Let us focus on that instead of going into insignificant matters. Wouldn't that be the most appropriate thing to do?"
The officers, affected by Adil's composed demeanor, acquiesced with a reluctant nod. "Certainly," Officer Khan replied, his facial expression barely concealing a trace of displeasure. "Let us proceed in that direction."
A sigh escaped my lips, my fingers clutching the handkerchief in my grasp, my teeth biting gently into my lower lip. Adil's comforting arm encircled my own, our fingers interlacing with a reassuring warmth. I turned to him, a small smile playing on my lips, finding solace in his unwavering presence amidst the storm.
…
Adil's voice resonated within the confines of the car as we sat, waiting for the congested traffic to ease. "Don't let this weigh on you so heavily, Amyra. We did everything we could," he reassured, his tone filled with empathy. "It's been a week already, cheer up."
"Cheer up?" I scoffed bitterly. "Adil, she's still missing."
He sighed, his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he slowly maneuvered the car through the now-cleared traffic. Suddenly, a woman appeared out of nowhere, causing him to slam on the brakes abruptly. He let out a frustrated click of his tongue before cautiously proceeding forward, his face etched with a scowl.
Anjali, her voice tinged with exhaustion, chimed in, offering her perspective. "It's like being the driver of a vehicle. Even if something unfortunate happens that isn't your fault, you'll still be blamed and face potential lawsuits. Unless you can prove your innocence with solid evidence. And tell me, how do you plan to find that, huh?"
Her words hung in the air, the weight of her question sinking into the silence of the car.
As we sped through the bustling highway of Lucknow, the city's streets were bustling with activity, filled with a mix of cars, auto-rickshaws, and pedestrians. The traffic flowed in a seemingly chaotic yet organized manner.
The roads were wide and lined with trees, providing some respite from the sun. However, the constant honking of horns created a symphony of sound, adding to the lively atmosphere. The beautiful metro tracks and pillars adorned with funky paintings and the beautiful architecture gave this city its unique charm. We saw an airplane taking off up close once we neared the airport, and it was a surreal experience.
Adil's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, as he encountered roundabouts where traffic merged from various directions, requiring careful judgment and quick decision-making. The traffic signals helped regulate the flow, but occasionally, he had to anticipate the movements of other vehicles.
As we rounded the Hajj House, the streets were adorned with street vendors selling delicious snacks like kebabs and biryanis, tempting us with their mouthwatering aromas. The scents mixed with the hustle and bustle of the markets showcased Lucknow's vibrant commercial spirit, despite in this fairly remote away from the main city.
Anjali’s exasperation filled the car as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Oh god, it’s like we’ve been journeying through eternity,” she huffed, her frustration evident. “Adil, I can’t believe you endure this daily to Alambagh from here. How much time does it take?”
Adil’s grin illuminated his face as he slowed the car down, flicking on the blinker. “Usually, 20-30 minutes in the morning when the traffic is still drowsy,” he responded. “But the return journey, God, is so damn exhausting; it stretches to 40-50 minutes.”
Anjali’s curiosity couldn’t be contained any longer. “Why are you still here then?” she inquired, genuinely intrigued.
Adil navigated into the parking lot of a magnificent, grand house. “This house,” he said, pride evident in his voice, “was purchased by my father. It holds a sentimental value as well as childhood memories. Now that I have a permanent job in Lucknow, I just can’t imagine leaving this place behind.”
As Adil pulled the handbrake and turned towards me, a sense of anticipation filled the air. With a graceful gesture, he invited me to step out of the car and fully immerse myself in the surroundings.
Although it wasn’t my first encounter with this place, I was perpetually entranced by its simple yet profound beauty. The symphony of nature enveloped us, as ancient trees stood sentinel on one side while the bustling highway hummed with distant echoes on the other. Across the expanse, an exquisitely vast panorama of lush, green fields unfolded, extending as far as the eye could behold.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood, I stood before the massive oak door that marked the entrance to Adil's house. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Moving in with Adil was a significant step in our relationship, and I couldn't help but wonder how our lives would intertwine under one roof.
Turning around, I saw the other of my friends pulling on the curb. They jumped out of their cars and ran over to greet me, hugging me tightly. We all grabbed boxes and started lugging them up the stairs, making jokes and laughing along the way. They worked quickly and efficiently, placing furniture in perfect spots and hanging up new curtains with ease. As we worked, my heart swelled with gratitude for these amazing people who were making this transition so much easier for me.
As I noticed the night getting darker, I smiled at my friends, urging them to depart. Clapping my hands together to dispel the clinging dust, I felt a tinge of urgency. “It's getting late now,” I warned, my voice filled with concern, “and the highway becomes a dangerous path during these hours.”
Shehzan's disappointment was palpable as he tsked in dissatisfaction. “I was hoping we could relive those glorious days of staying over,” he lamented.
Ruchi, already reaching for her keys, pondered the idea. “We could have done that. After all, it is summer break,” she mused, planting a tender kiss on my cheek. “Unfortunately, that's not possible now that we are all grown up and have our own families to take care of. So, bye,' she declared, offering a flying kiss to everyone before hastening out the door.
Shehzan, sensing the gathering's end, rose from his seat and draped an arm over the groggy Peter, coaxing him towards the exit. Adil went with them to send them off.
When he appeared again, his surprise was evident upon realizing that only the two of us remained.
“Where's Anju?” he inquired, his brow furrowing with curiosity.
“She departed earlier, right after the moving truck pulled away,” I replied, turning to face Adil after carefully placing my cherished painting in its rightful spot. 'With her joint family always breathing down her neck, there’s only a little amount of time she could spare for us.'
“Lucky for us,” Adil exclaimed with a mischievous grin, wrapping an arm around my waist and stealing a swift peck from my lips.
Playfully, I pushed him away, sending him tumbling onto the couch with a satisfying plop. Chuckling, I asked, “Would you like something to drink? Mumma made lassi for us.”
His laughter filled the room as he responded, “No way! You brought that all the way here? Hell yeah, I want some.”
With a smirk, I made my way to the kitchen. Each step echoed through the empty halls, an orchestration of excitement tinged with a hint of paranoia. The walls of the ancient mansion whispered secrets and exuded an otherworldly ambiance, leaving me with a sense of captivating intrigue tempered by an undercurrent of foreboding
…
As I unpacked my clothes in the bedroom, I noticed a peculiar-looking mirror leaning against the wall in the corner of the living room. It stood tall and imposing, its frame adorned with intricate carvings of vines and mythical creatures. The glass itself had a slightly distorted quality, giving off an eerie aura that sent a shiver down my spine.
Curiosity piqued, I approached the mirror cautiously, mentally calculating the price this ancient piece of furniture might have been bought for. The reflection it offered seemed slightly askew, warping my features just enough to make me uneasy. My eyes widened as I took in the slightly distorted image, wondering why this piece is still in the master bedroom despite being this old.
Adil noticed my fascination, and walked over. “What is it?” he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "What do you think of the mirror, Ira?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
I tore my gaze away from the mirror, leaning into his embrace. "It's... intriguing, to say the least. There's something about it that gives me an odd feeling, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
He chuckled softly. "I know what you mean. It has always been a bit off, but I've never really paid much attention to it. Just thought it added a touch of vintage charm to the room. It had been here for years now."
I smiled, grateful for John's comforting presence. "Maybe it's just my imagination running wild. It's been a long day." I yawned, turning around to face him. “I seem to know a way which could either wear off my exhaustion or make it worse,” I smirked, playing with the strings of his hoodie.
He smiled back, kissing my lips passionately before throwing me on the bed.
…
Days turned into weeks, and the mirror became a mere backdrop in my new life. I settled into a comfortable routine with Adil, cherishing the mornings spent in the cozy kitchen and the evenings lost in conversation on the worn-out sofa. The summer break only added to the amount of time we spent together.
The mirror, though still a silent observer, held no power over my thoughts anymore.
But it was in there still. Especially after that one occurrence.
…
It was a moonlit night; Adil had gone for a night out with the boys. I suggested to have one with the girls as well, but being the married ladies they were, it was hard for them to hangout often. Especially with me living miles away from them now.
That was how I had found myself alone in the house and it was as if a restless energy had gripped me. I sat up straighter on my bed, eyeing the mirror seemingly mocked me with its mere presence. Unable to ignore the lingering sense of curiosity any longer, I approached the enigmatic mirror once again.
As I stood before it, my reflection distorted by the peculiar glass. In that moment, a flicker of curiosity mingled with a tinge of trepidation as I gazed into the mirror's depths.
As I continued to stare into the mirror, the image before me began to shift and transform. The reflection wavered, and a haunting figure emerged—a young girl, her face etched with sorrow and longing. My heart skipped a beat, recognition dawning upon her. Sakshi.
My mind raced back to that day, when I had glimpsed the girl through the car window, my own guilt pressing heavy on my conscience. She looked so desperate to be saved as she tried to crawl towards us, she wanted to live. But the wounds on her were severe. The girl laid twisted and broken amidst the cloak of night, her once rosy cheeks were pallid and stained with dirt and blood. Her hair, matted and tangled, was starkly contrasted against her ashen skin. Her eyes, though clouded with pain, flashed with a hint of fear as she gasped for breath. Her limbs were contorted at unnatural angles, and a deep gash across her abdomen oozed a crimson pool. She was barely conscious, her soft moans a heartbreaking melody amidst the chaos of the deadly silent night.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out, my trembling hand mirroring the girl's yearning. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice quivering with remorse. "I should have done something, should have tried harder to help you."
The reflection of the girl, trapped within the mirror, conveyed a sense of resentment. Her eyes, pools of sadness and hated, bore into my soul, as if rejecting my apology. It was a haunting moment of connection, a merging of guilt and absolution, trapped within the confines of that eerie mirror.
As the vision faded, leaving only my reflection behind, I sobbed.
My hand trembled as I reached out to touch the cool surface of the glass again.
“Amy!” As Adil's voice reverberated through the cavernous mansion, I could sense his eagerness to share the night's gossip with me. However, an inexplicable force held me rooted to my spot, my gaze fixated on the mirror before me. To my horror, cracks began to mar its smooth surface, spiderwebbing across its reflection. A chilling breath escaped my lips as I watched in disbelief as the mirror became tainted with ominous splatters of blood.
A frigid shiver cascaded down my spine, paralyzing me with fear as I remained transfixed, incapable of uttering a single word. Behind the cracked glass, faint sounds of sniffling voices emerged, as if someone was sobbing or whimpering in distress. Their cries reached my ears, muffled and distant, yet I could discern the unmistakable traces of fear and anguish. An overwhelming urge to flee coursed through my veins, but my feet refused to cooperate, leaving me rooted in a petrified stance.
Against my better judgment, I leaned closer to the mirror, desperately straining to catch the faint whispers that escaped the invisible barrier. Yet, as I leaned in, the voices abruptly ceased, plunging the room into an unnerving silence. The stillness seemed to reverberate through my very being, deafening me with its oppressive weight.
Suddenly, a firm hand grasped my shoulder from behind, jolting me out of my trance. Startled, I let out a bloodcurdling scream and swiftly spun around, only to be met by Adil's concerned face. Sensing my turmoil, he had entered the room and ventured up behind me. His voice trembled with worry as he softly asked, "Babe, are you okay?"
I turned to face him, my eyes filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. "I- I can't explain it, but there's something strange about this mirror. It's as if it's alive, watching me, and I can't shake this unsettling feeling whenever I'm near it."
Adil's brows furrowed as he studied the mirror. Then he turned to me, his eyes dripping with love and empathy, “It’s okay, babe. It’s just a mirror.” He kissed my forehead and hugged me tightly.
“Just a mirror,” I repeated, my words muffled beneath his sturdy shoulders. “Just a mirror that shows your true reflections.”
He laughed, “Don’t all mirrors do that,” He pulled away, caressing my cheeks. “Babe, you need to rest, come on.” He led me away from a mirror and I felt relief wash all over me.
I glanced back at the mirror, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a pair of eyes staring back at me from the other side.