“No, Leo, NO!” Emily screamed, her voice echoing through the old house. “Leo, please put Lily down! Don’t do that—you’ll hurt her!”
The attic was dim, lit only by a dusty window. Boxes were scattered everywhere, along with old toys and forgotten memories. But in the middle of it all, stood Leo—frozen, gripping his little sister Lily tightly by the arms.
She was limp. Too limp.
Emily, just thirteen, had run upstairs after hearing a loud thud followed by a strange dragging sound. What she found shocked her: Leo, her older brother, standing over Lily with a blank stare in his eyes. It didn’t even look like him anymore.
“Leo,” she said again, this time softer, trying not to cry. “You’re scaring me. Please let her go.”
Leo blinked once—slowly—and looked at her, confused. “She wanted to see it,” he said in a low voice. “She kept asking. So I showed her.”
“Showed her what?” Emily whispered.
He turned his head toward the far corner of the attic. A tall, crooked mirror stood there, covered in a gray sheet. But now the sheet was on the floor. The mirror was uncovered—and cracked.
Emily’s heart pounded in her chest. That mirror had belonged to their great-grandmother. Everyone said it was cursed. Their parents told them never to touch it. It had been locked away for years, hidden in the attic for a reason.
“She looked inside,” Leo continued, his grip still tight on Lily’s arms. “She saw it. And then… she stopped talking.”
Lily, only six, was completely still in his arms. Her eyes were wide open, but empty. Her lips moved slightly, but no sound came out. Her cheeks were pale as paper.
Emily rushed over and gently pulled her from Leo’s grasp. He didn’t resist. It was as if he’d finally woken up. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he whispered. “I thought it was just a story…”
They called for help, and within minutes, the paramedics arrived. Lily was taken to the hospital, still silent, still unresponsive. Leo was questioned, but he couldn’t explain much. All he kept saying was, “The mirror showed her something. It showed her something I didn’t see.”
That night, their parents removed the mirror from the attic and smashed it to pieces.
Weeks later, Lily slowly began to recover. Her voice came back in whispers, then in full sentences. But she never spoke about what she saw in that mirror.
As for Leo, he avoided the attic altogether. He grew quieter, more withdrawn. Sometimes, when he passed by his reflection, he looked twice—just to make sure it was still him looking back.
Whatever happened that day changed all of them.
And to this day, Emily still wonders: What did Lily see in that mirror that stole her voice—and nearly her mind?
