The nightmares hadn't stopped. Even after the fall… even after waking up safe in Arvin's house. Bhagya Vesh still couldn't breathe easily.
He had started sleeping at Arvin's place more often, hoping that changing locations might help. But sleep was still the enemy. Each night, the same visions would return—of a white field soaked in silence, the reflection in the mirror talking back, and his own lifeless body lying beneath him.
But tonight was worse.
The dream had pulled him into darkness again. A familiar voice whispered from somewhere unseen, "You don't belong here." He saw glimpses of blood, shattered glass, and shadowed hands reaching out.
When Bhagya jolted awake, he was back in his own room.
It was strange—he didn't remember coming home.
He sat up slowly, heart pounding. The morning light crept across his wall, but it brought no warmth. His breath was heavy, uncertain. He walked to the bathroom to splash water on his face.
And then… the mirror spoke.
His reflection didn't mimic his movements. Instead, it stepped forward.
The figure looked exactly like him—same face, same hair, same tired eyes—but the voice was deeper, colder.
> "Your time is up. You should just face it."
Bhagya staggered back, his knees nearly giving out. "What… what are you?"
The mirror entity tilted its head, smirking. Its eyes were hollow.
> "You already know me. You've always known me."
In a panic, Bhagya rushed to his window. His hands shook as he threw it open, hoping to scream, to cry for help—anything. But what he saw below made his soul freeze.
The ground was littered with countless bodies—all of them identical to him. Dead. Still. Eyes open, staring up at him.
"No… no, no," he whispered, backing away, his breath turning to sobs.
He slammed the window shut and collapsed to the floor. He couldn't stop shaking. His mind blurred the line between real and dream. The image of the bodies haunted him even with open eyes.
—
Over the next few days, Bhagya became silent, withdrawn. Even during the day, his hands trembled. He couldn't focus, couldn't think. Arvin noticed. So did Anaya.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly during class.
Bhagya forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just tired."
Arvin nudged him later. "Bro, you're scaring me. You look like you haven't slept in years."
Bhagya's response was sharp. "Just leave me alone."
They exchanged worried glances behind his back.
Every night, the mirror came back. Every dream tore deeper into him. He started hearing voices when awake. Not loud, but just enough to make his skin crawl.
Bhagya found himself staring at the ceiling in silence. His mind had become a battlefield, filled with voices, guilt, fear… and something darker.
He started blaming himself. For existing. For being alive when he shouldn't be. He believed the world had made a mistake—and now, it wanted to correct it and then Bhagya tied rope to the ceiling.
He stood in front of the mirror again,empty and broken. The entity in the mirror was smiling this time.
Bhagya whispered, "Is this what you wanted?"
And then…he hanged.
But when morning light returned, Bhagya was still there—on the floor of his room. Alive.
No rope. No blood. Just silence.
He sat up slowly, heart pounding. Was it real?
The mirror was whole again. The entity gone.
Bhagya touched his chest. His heart was beating.
"Why am I still here?"
His voice was hoarse, tired.
No answers came. Only the sound of his breath…