The world ended on a Tuesday.
Not with fire. Not with screaming. Not even with dramatic theme music or slow-mo destruction. Just silence. Glass. And eyes that wouldn't stop staring.
By the time fourth period rolled around, half the school was in chaos.
A freshman fainted in the stairwell after seeing her reflection blink twice—but backward.
Someone ripped the bathroom mirror off the wall and threw it down the hallway. It shattered. No one cleaned it up. The janitor quit and went home.
Teachers locked doors. Students covered their phone screens with tape. Rumors spread like wildfire. Some said it was a virus. Others said it was witchcraft. One kid was convinced it was aliens conducting mirror-based psychological warfare.
Me? I was just trying not to get caught.
Because while everyone was panicking about their reflections not moving...
I didn't have one at all.
---
I kept my head down, hoodie up, eyes low.
It wasn't hard to blend in. People were too distracted to notice much. A few were crying. Some had gone full "mirror hunter," running from classroom to classroom trying to see if their reflection had moved yet. One guy was live-streaming himself on ten phones, begging for a "sign."
And me? I just wanted to survive the day without becoming someone's science experiment.
But paranoia is a persistent little thing.
By lunchtime, whispers had started.
---
"You see Kael in the hallway?"
"I swear he doesn't reflect."
"No, seriously. In the vending machine glass—he walked by, and there was nothing."
"Maybe he's a vampire."
"Maybe he's the cause."
---
By the time I reached the cafeteria, every reflective surface had either been taped over, turned to face the wall, or smashed.
The only things still exposed were the stainless steel trays. And the moment I picked mine up, the kid behind me froze.
"Wait," he said, loud enough for nearby heads to turn.
I didn't move.
He stepped to the side. Looked down.
At my tray.
Then at me.
Then at the tray again.
"There's nothing," he said, voice rising. "Dude. You—he doesn't—he has no reflection!"
I dropped the tray.
It clanged. Loud. Final.
Everyone turned.
Every. Single. Person.
Eyes wide. Fear blooming behind their faces.
The silence was louder than any scream.
---
"I don't feel good," I muttered.
Then I ran.
---
I made it two hallways before I heard the footsteps behind me. Voices. People trying to catch up. Not shouting—yet—but close.
I ducked into a janitor's closet and slammed the door.
The bulb above me flickered once.
Then again.
Then—
I saw the writing.
Etched faintly into the back of the dusty mirror on the far wall.
Backwards. Smudged. Written in something dark red.
"I see you "
My throat closed.
I reached out. My fingers brushed the glass.
It was warm.
---
That's when the door behind me rattled.
"Kael?" someone called. "Are you okay in there? We just… we want to talk."
I didn't answer.
I stared at my own reflectionless glass. The faintest outline of a face trying to surface behind it. Not mine.
Not anymore.
I knew then:
Whatever got out is still watching me.
Still connected to me.
And it's only just getting started.