I was brushing my teeth when I noticed something weird.
My reflection wasn’t copying me.
At first, I thought I was just tired. I blinked once. The girl in the mirror didn’t. I raised one eyebrow. She smirked. Like … actually smirked. On her own.
I dropped my toothbrush.
“Okay, that’s creepy.”
She waved.
I screamed.
My mom came running in. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed at the mirror, but by the time she looked, my reflection was normal. Just regular old me, terrified, with toothpaste on my chin.
“You probably need more sleep,” she said, patting my head and walking away.
I stared at the mirror for a long time. My reflection stared back, normal again. But I knew what I saw.
The next night, I came back with a flashlight, a notebook, and a granola bar (in case this took a while). I stood in front of the mirror and whispered, “I saw you. I know you’re not me.”
And then she came back.
She blinked slowly, then said, “Finally.”
I froze. “You talk?”
“Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been stuck copying you for twelve years. Do you know how boring that is?”
“Who … what are you?”
“I’m Mira,” she said, like it was obvious. “I live on the other side of the mirror. Duh.”
I squinted. “Is that, like, a real place?”
“Yep. Mirror World. And it’s falling apart.”
I stepped back. “What does that have to do with me?”
She pressed her hands against the glass. “You’re the Key. Only you can open the mirror. You have to come through and help me fix it before our worlds shatter.”
I stared at her. This was insane. But something deep inside me believed her.
“How do I get through?”
She smiled. “Touch the glass and say, ‘I see beyond what’s shown to me’.”
I hesitated. Then I did it.
The mirror rippled like water. I gasped and stepped through.
On the other side, the world looked like a shimmering version of my room, with the same desk, same bed, but everything was silver and glowing.
Mira stood there, wearing the same pajamas I had on, but her eyes sparkled like the stars.
“Welcome,” she said. “Now, hurry. The cracks are spreading.”
She led me through twisting glass tunnels and upside-down cities, where reflections walked on the sky. It was magical and terrifying. The ground kept splitting with jagged black cracks.
Mira explained that every time someone in the real world stopped believing in imagination, her world weakened.
“You’re one of the last Dreamers,” she said. “You still believe in the impossible. That’s why the mirror chose you.”
We reached the Heart Mirror, a huge floating crystal. It was shattering.
“Place your hand here,” she said.
I did.
A warm light surged through me. The cracks began to heal. The world shimmered, brighter and steadier.
“You did it,” Mira whispered.
I smiled. “Guess I’m not just a regular kid after all.”
Then everything faded, and I woke up in my bed.
Was it all a dream?
I checked the mirror.
Mira winked.
Definitely not a dream.
