Inside The MirrorJune 11, 2011
Wow, a lot of fun stories here! It’s weird that more than one person have a “ghost in the mirror” story, because I have one too…what’s up with mirrors, man?
The house I grew up in was built in 1904, and it’s always had a lot of … character. Footsteps, TV’s turning off and on, changing channels, etc. Now and then I’d think I’d seen something but it could always be explained away. Then, when I was about seventeen I rearranged my bedroom furniture. I had a closet door with a floor length mirror on one side, I put my desk right next to it. On the other, I put my bed (perpendicular to the mirror). A week or two later, I woke up in the middle of the night. Not gradually, I had been asleep and then, WHAM, awake, with all of the hair on my neck raised. I turned my head to look and saw a woman standing in the mirror with one hand on my desk. Standing, literally, in the mirror. As though she were on the other side of the mirror, looking out–not like she was being reflected in the mirror. She was wearing a pink angora cardigan and a gray skirt, and her hair was done in a style from the 40s/50s era. Convinced I was still dreaming, I closed my eyes, counted to three, and opened them again–the woman was still there. She raised her other hand in a wave and disappeared, poof. That was it. I screamed like a bloody banshee and of course my parents came in and told me it was a nightmare, but I’ve had nightmares before. I might have hallucinated but I was wide awake.