Vivian couldn’t move. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at the fractured shards of the mirror scattered across the floor. Her reflection stared back from every jagged piece, each fragment showing a distorted version of herself.

And in every shard, the smile remained.

“Why won’t you go away?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The reflections moved in unison, tilting their heads slightly. Her voice came back to her, layered and echoing from every shard. “Because I am you. And you are me.”

“No,” Vivian hissed, pressing her hands against her ears, trying to drown out the sound. “You’re not me. You’re just… you’re just what the mirror left behind.”

The fragments began to glow faintly, their light pulsing like a heartbeat. The whisper returned, softer this time, almost gentle. “Do you really believe that? Or are you just afraid to admit the truth?”

Vivian shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn’t face it—not now, not like this.

The sound of footsteps broke through her spiraling thoughts. Someone was running up the stairs, the hurried thuds growing louder until Sebastian burst into the room.

“Vivian!” he called, his eyes scanning the chaos. His gaze landed on the shattered mirror, and his face paled. “What happened?”

“I—I saw it,” she stammered, pointing at the shards. “It was there, in the mirror. It spoke to me.”

Sebastian crouched beside her, his expression tense. “Vivian, listen to me. You’re not alone in this. Whatever’s happening, we’ll face it together. But you have to stay calm.”

“Calm?” she snapped, her voice breaking. “How am I supposed to stay calm when it’s still here? When I can feel it inside me?”

Sebastian hesitated, his jaw tightening. “It’s stronger than I thought,” he admitted. “The mirror’s grip… it’s deeper than I realized. But you’ve already fought it once. You can do it again.”

Vivian shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t think I can, Sebastian. It’s in my head, twisting everything. What if I’m too late? What if it’s already taken over?”

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The mirror feeds on fear, doubt. It wants you to believe you’ve already lost. But that’s how it wins. You have to push back.”

Vivian met his gaze, searching for any flicker of uncertainty, but his eyes were steady. “How do I fight something I can’t even see?”

Sebastian glanced at the shards on the floor. “Sometimes, to fight the darkness, you have to face it head-on. No running, no hiding. You have to confront the parts of yourself it’s feeding on.”

Vivian’s stomach churned. “And what if I don’t like what I find?”

Sebastian’s expression softened. “Then you face it anyway. Because the alternative is letting it consume you.”

Later that night, Vivian sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, the broken shards arranged in a circle around her. Sebastian had left her alone, though she could feel his unease as he reluctantly closed the door behind him.

The room was quiet now, save for the faint rustle of the wind outside. The shards glinted in the moonlight, their jagged edges casting strange patterns on the walls.

Vivian stared at her fragmented reflection. In each piece, her face looked back at her, twisted and incomplete. She could still feel the pull of the mirror, a subtle hum in the back of her mind.

“You wanted me to confront you?” she said aloud, her voice echoing in the stillness. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the reflections began to shift. Her face melted away, replaced by shadows and flickering images.

Her childhood bedroom appeared in one shard, the bed unmade, the curtains drawn. She saw herself as a child, sitting on the floor with her brother, the two of them laughing as they built a tower of blocks.

In another shard, the image shifted to the day her brother died. The sound of his laughter was replaced by a deafening silence, his empty room staring back at her like a void.

“You think you’ve hidden these away,” the voice whispered, coming from everywhere and nowhere. “But they’ve always been here, waiting. Feeding me.”

Vivian’s throat tightened as she stared at the shards. “You’re wrong,” she said, though her voice wavered.

“Am I?” the voice taunted. “You’ve carried this guilt your whole life, haven’t you? The weight of his death, the emptiness he left behind. You blame yourself, even now.”

Vivian’s hands curled into fists. “Stop it.”

Another shard shifted, showing her parents. Their faces were distant, cold, as they sat across the dinner table from her. She remembered the way they had withdrawn after her brother’s death, their grief carving a rift between them that never healed.

“You wanted their love,” the voice continued, relentless. “But all you saw in their eyes was disappointment. You were a reminder of what they lost. Of what they couldn’t save.”

“Stop it!” Vivian shouted, her voice cracking.

The shards pulsed with light, the images swirling faster. Her failures, her regrets, her darkest thoughts—everything she had buried deep within herself was laid bare before her.

“You think you can destroy me?” the voice whispered, softer now. “You can’t even face yourself.”

Vivian closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. The weight of it all pressed down on her, threatening to crush her.

But then, amidst the chaos, a new voice emerged.

Her own.

“You don’t control me,” it said, steady and defiant. “You’re just a part of me—a part I’ve hidden for too long. But I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Vivian opened her eyes, her heart pounding. She stared at the shards, at the swirling images within them. “You’re right,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “I have carried this guilt. I have let it define me. But not anymore.”

The reflections froze, the light within them dimming.

“I’m done running from you,” Vivian continued. “You’re a part of me, but you don’t own me. I’m stronger than you.”

The shards began to crack, the images within them shattering like glass. The voice screamed, a sound that rattled the walls, but Vivian didn’t flinch.

One by one, the shards dissolved into dust, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.

When it was over, Vivian sat alone in the empty room. The air felt lighter now, the oppressive weight finally gone.

For the first time in years, she felt… free.

But as she stood and turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the window.

Her reflection looked back at her, whole and unbroken. But for just a moment, she thought she saw the faintest flicker of a smile—one that didn’t quite match her own.

To be continued...