This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Important-Victory-25 on 2024-11-10 07:37:33+00:00.

[1] - [2]

After my visit to Mirror Pool, sleep is no longer the escape it once was. Nights are fractured into a string of feverish dreams, each one pulling me back to that lake. I wake up in the dark, feeling like something cold and wet is clutching my wrist. I tell myself it’s just leftover adrenaline, but I can’t shake the feeling that my reflection—or whatever I saw in the water—followed me home.

I try to keep it to myself, but when I start seeing her in every reflective surface, I lose it. I find myself avoiding mirrors, covering anything that might show my reflection. Yet, every glimpse, every accidental glance, shows her lingering, waiting. And each time, that twisted, unsettling smile is there, barely concealed. The worst part is that I’m beginning to feel it pulling at me. It’s like every sight of her in glass or water leaves a trace, a calling that digs deeper and deeper.

Today, though, I decide to confide in Eli. Eli’s my best friend, and he knew Evelyn almost as well as I did. He’s got this logical, level-headed way of looking at things—exactly what I need right now. We meet at Laketon’s only diner, a place where the lights are bright, and there’s no chance of finding my reflection in a window or a pool of water on the floor.

"So, how’ve you been holding up?” he asks, sipping his coffee. His expression is careful, but I can see he’s worried.

“I went to Mirror Pool,” I say, and his face darkens. He knew this would happen eventually.

“Why would you go back there?” he asks, looking around as if someone might overhear us talking about that place.

I tell him about the anniversary, about the things I saw, the voice that called to me from the water, and the reflection I keep seeing in mirrors. As I speak, he listens without interrupting, but I can see the doubt creeping into his eyes.

“You’re saying your reflection is… haunted?” He’s trying to keep his tone neutral, but I can feel the skepticism. I can’t blame him. It sounds insane.

“I know how it sounds, Eli,” I snap, but my voice wavers. “But Evelyn wrote about it in her journal. She saw it, too. There’s something wrong with that place.”

He pauses, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. “Look, I believe you, okay? You’re not… making this up. But are you sure it’s not just… I don’t know, your mind trying to fill in the gaps? You’ve been through a lot, and grief does weird things to people.”

“Maybe it is grief,” I say quietly, glancing out the window. “But if you’d seen what I saw… you’d understand why I can’t just ignore it.”

He sighs, setting his coffee cup down. “Fine. Let’s go back, then. Together. Just to prove to you there’s nothing there.” He says it like he’s trying to convince both of us.

That night, we set out. The forest is darker than I remembered, the trees looming taller, as if they’ve grown in the time since I last came here. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, and I can’t shake the sensation of being watched. The crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot is the only sound, and it feels obscenely loud in the stillness.

Eli’s flashlight sweeps across the path as we make our way closer to Mirror Pool. When we finally reach the clearing, the lake looks even more unnatural under the thin moonlight. The water is too still, reflecting the sky in a way that’s too perfect, like it’s waiting for us to step closer.

“You see?” I whisper, nodding toward the lake. “There’s something off. It’s like it’s not… real.”

Eli frowns, scanning the lake’s surface. “It’s just water, man.”

But I can see him tense as we approach the edge, his steps slowing as if he’s feeling the same unease. I take a deep breath and kneel, peering down at the water.

At first, it’s just us—our faces reflected in the glassy surface. But as I stare, my reflection begins to change. Her smile starts to creep onto her face again, lips curling upward into that same eerie, knowing grin. She tilts her head, as if she’s inviting me to come closer.

And then… her hand moves. It presses against the water’s surface from underneath, fingers curling upward as if she’s about to pull herself out. Her eyes are locked onto mine, filled with something dark, something hungry.

Eli’s face pales. “What… what is that?” he whispers, stumbling back. I can tell he sees it too.

Before I can respond, her hand breaks the surface, dripping with dark, murky water as it reaches toward us. She’s climbing out, her eyes fixed on me with that same smile, that same twisted expression of glee.

Eli and I stumble back, nearly falling as she reaches for us. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear anything else. I try to drag Eli back with me, but he’s frozen, his gaze locked on her as if he’s trapped.

“Eli!” I shout, and that seems to snap him out of it. We run, tearing through the woods, our footsteps echoing through the trees. I can feel her watching us, sense her lurking just behind, her voice a faint whisper that’s growing louder, repeating over and over.

“Come back… stay with me.”

I barely remember getting home. I stumble through the door, slamming it shut behind me, heart racing as I lean against it, trying to catch my breath. Eli follows a moment later, wide-eyed and silent.

“You saw it too, didn’t you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Eli nods, his face pale. “It… it looked like you, but it wasn’t. That smile… God, that smile. What the hell is going on?”

I don’t have an answer. All I know is that she—whatever she is—wants something from me. And now that I’ve gone to the lake, now that I’ve seen her, she’s not going to stop.

That night, sleep is impossible. I hear her voice in every shadow, every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of wind outside my window. I cover every mirror, every reflective surface I can find, but it doesn’t matter. She’s there, lurking in the edges of my vision, her smile growing wider each time I look away.

In my dreams, she’s waiting by the lake, her hand outstretched, beckoning me forward. Her mouth moves, but her words are a distorted version of my own voice.

“Come back… come home.”

I wake up in a cold sweat, my heart hammering, and glance at the covered mirror by my bed. For a moment, I swear I see her silhouette in the darkness, her hand reaching toward me.

I don’t know what’s going on. All I know is that going back there has made something much, much worse.