CHAPTER ELEVEN — The Mirror Message
1358 Words
I barely remembered how I walked back to Dorm 7.
My legs moved on their own, carrying me across the courtyard, past the water tank, through the dim corridor that always smelled like Izal and wet socks. My mind was somewhere else entirely — trapped in the second toilet with Tomi’s voice echoing:
“She disappeared.”
“You’re following the same pattern.”
“You don’t have a choice anymore.”
I pushed open the dorm door with trembling hands.
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional snore from someone’s bunk. My eyes went straight to Rita’s bed. She was curled on her side, blanket pulled up to her chin, breathing deeply.
Normal. Peaceful.
The exact opposite of everything I felt.
I moved quietly to my bunk and sat down slowly, the wooden frame creaking under me. The darkness pressed against my skin, and I hugged my knees, trying to stop my hands from shaking.
Why me?
Why Dorm 7?
Why did a girl from 2014 and a girl from 2026 have the same name?
Why was the principal so scared?
I lay down and pulled the blanket over my head, hoping sleep would blur everything away. But sleep didn’t come. My mind refused to slow down.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the scratched mirror.
The drawings.
The date: 2014.
The stall door moving on its own.
And worst of all, the whisper Tomi didn’t hear. The one that brushed against my ear like a cold finger:
“You finally found me.”
I shivered violently under the blanket.
Maybe I had imagined it.
Maybe it was the light buzzing.
Maybe—
A loud clang echoed from the corridor.
I sat up instantly, heart pounding. Footsteps rushed past the door — not running, not walking… more like dragging. Like someone was pulling a full bucket across the tiles.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to lie back down.
This school had too many strange sounds. You could go crazy wondering what every noise meant.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under.
Not sleep exactly — more like floating.
Half dreams, half consciousness.
Whispers mixing with memories.
The old Halima’s face blending into my own.
When I finally woke up, the sky outside was grey with early morning light. Girls were moving around the room, dressing up, tying scarves, complaining about morning duty. Everything looked soft, blurry, unreal.
Rita was sitting on her bed, arms folded, staring at me with eyebrows raised.
“Good morning to you too,” she said. “Oya explain where you went last night.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I didn’t go anywhere.”
She scoffed. “Please. Your bed was empty. Your slippers were gone. Even your shadow left the room.”
“I just went to pee,” I muttered.
“At 11 pm?” she shot back. “Hallie, who do you think you’re fooling?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My brain was too full, and I wasn’t ready to dump everything on her. Not when I didn’t even know what she was hiding.
Rita sighed loudly. “Fine. Keep secrets. But just know… this school is not a place to wander around at night.”
A strange look flickered across her face — fear, maybe. Guilt. Or something deeper.
Before I could ask, she grabbed her bucket and stomped out.
I got up slowly and stretched. My whole back ached from sleeping badly. I shuffled to the bathroom area to wash my face.
The mirror was foggy from the early morning heat.
I wiped it with my palm.
And froze.
There were words on the glass.
Not written with marker.
Not scratched like the ones in the second toilet.
These were written in something wet.
Something that dripped slightly down the surface.
My breath stopped.
Three words.
YOU ARE NEXT.
I stumbled backwards so fast I hit the tap behind me. My knees almost buckled.
“No. No. NO.”
My voice came out broken.
I blinked hard.
The words were still there.
The dorm was noisy behind me, girls laughing, arguing, dragging buckets — none of them noticing what was on the mirror right in front of me.
My throat closed.
Someone had written this.
Someone had come into the bathroom before dawn.
Someone knew exactly where I slept.
Someone knew my name.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I took a shaky breath and stepped closer again, squinting at the letters. The handwriting was uneven. Slanted. Almost childlike.
My hands trembled.
“Hallie?”
I jumped violently.
It was Rita, standing behind me with her toothbrush in her mouth. She frowned at my face, then at the mirror.
“What are you—?”
She froze completely.
Her toothbrush dropped to the floor.
“Hallie,” she whispered. “What is that?”
“I… I don’t know.” My voice cracked. “It wasn’t here last night.”
She stared at the message for a long, silent moment. Then she grabbed my wrist.
“Hallie, pack your things. We need to tell matron—”
“No.”
Rita blinked. “What do you mean no?”
“Telling matron is exactly what whoever wrote this wants,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure why I believed it. The sentence felt true, like it had already happened before. Like someone had warned the first Halima too late.
Rita looked terrified. Truly terrified.
“This school…” she whispered shakily, “this school is not normal. I told you to stay away from Tomi. I told you—”
“This isn’t Tomi,” I said, though a tiny voice whispered: Are you sure?
Rita swallowed and stepped closer to the mirror like she wanted to look for fingerprints or clues.
Then she flinched.
“Hallie,” she whispered, “come. Look.”
“What?”
She pointed.
At the bottom corner of the mirror… faint but visible… was a date.
Not written.
Not scratched.
More like left behind after the message was wiped once before.
A date smudged into the glass.
2014
My stomach twisted.
The same year Tomi drew in her notebook.
The same year the other Halima disappeared.
The same year everything started.
Rita slowly backed away like the mirror was alive.
“I’m… I’m going to get water,” she said shakily. “Just stay here. Don’t follow me.”
She left quickly.
The moment she stepped out, the bathroom felt colder. Too quiet. The light flickered once.
I stared at the message again, feeling the weight of the entire dorm pressing on my shoulders.
You are next.
Next for what?
Next to disappear?
Next to see something?
Next to uncover something?
I reached out and touched the letter “Y.”
The surface was cold and damp.
Like the message had been written with water that hadn’t fully dried.
Or like it was written just moments ago.
My heartbeat quickened.
Suddenly — a soft whisper brushed the back of my neck.
I spun around instantly.
No one was there.
Only the empty bathroom stalls.
Only shadows.
Only the dripping tap.
My breath shook.
Was it my imagination?
Was it the wind?
Was it—
Then it came again.
Soft. Close. Almost familiar.
“Hallima…”
I backed up until my spine hit the wall.
“No,” I whispered. “Stop.”
The mirror flickered.
Just for a second.
The reflection behind me darkened — like another shape stood there. Like someone taller. Someone still. Someone watching.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
One second.
Two.
Three.
When I opened them again, the reflection was normal.
Just me.
Just the empty bathroom.
But the message on the mirror had changed.
Now it said:
WE REMEMBER YOU
My legs gave out and I sank to the floor, hugging myself as my breaths came too fast.
This wasn’t just a warning.
This was personal.
Someone — or something — knew me.
Knew my name.
Knew my face.
Knew the girl from 2014.
And now… they wanted me to remember them back.
- Writer
