The Shadow in My Mirror

Living alone, I kept feeling like there was a second person in my home.

This morning, I'd just finished making breakfast. The moment I turned around, the fried egg was gone.

Freshly washed clothes hung in the closet suddenly had stains on the collar.

I turned the house upside down and installed security cameras, but found nothing.

Just when I let my guard down, my boyfriend smiled and pulled me close

"You were so passionate last night. The moment I walked through your door, you threw yourself at me."

My blood ran cold.

But last night, I wasn't even home.

My boyfriend McMenaman's fingers were still brushing against my waist. Seeing my face turn ghost-white, he paused and leaned in to touch my face, his tone teasing:

"What's wrong, babe? Embarrassed? You sure didn't act like this when you were holding onto my neck last night, refusing to let go."

Every muscle in my body tensed. The pain of my nails digging into my palms barely brought me back to my senses.

I stared into his eyes, my voice shaking:

"You're saying... you saw me in my room last night?"

McMenaman nodded, the smile still on his face.

He reached out to put his arm around my waist, but I instinctively dodged.

He froze, confused:

"Yeah, wasn't there a power outage? I was worried you'd be scared, so I came over to keep you company."

"When I came in, before I could even turn on the lights, you threw yourself at me. Your hair was in those new big waves you got permed. I'd recognize those curls anywhere."

Every word he spoke was like an ice pick stabbing into my bones.

I grabbed his arm hard enough to make him wince:

"I'm not joking, McMenaman. I really wasn't home last night."

"I told you last weekDottie just went through a breakup. I stayed with her for a couple days. Last night I slept at her place the whole time. I never came back."

The smile slowly froze on McMenaman's face.

He reached out to feel my forehead, panic creeping into his voice:

"Stop messing around. This isn't funny."

"Only you and I have keys to your place. We just changed to that high-security lock last month. Who else could it be but you?"

"Besides, we've been together three years. You think I'd mistake your body, your voice?"

"Last night you sounded exactly like you always do. Even the perfume was the same!"

I didn't argue with him. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and called Dottie on speaker.

The phone rang twice before she picked up, her voice hoarse from just waking up:

"What's up, honey? You left your cartoon bathrobe here when you left this morning. When are you coming to get it?"

I took a deep breath:

"Dottie, tell me the truth. Did I sleep at your place last night?"

"Duh, where else would you be?"

Dottie yawned, her tone teasing.

"We stayed up until three watching horror movies. You were so scared you cried while hugging my arm, and you made me get you an ice-cold Coke. Don't tell me you forgot already?"

"Or is McMenaman checking up on you? Want me to vouch for you?"

"No need, thanks Dottie."

I hung up and looked up to see McMenaman's face white as paper, sweat beading on his forehead.

He staggered back a step and bumped into the dining table behind him.

The glass I'd just set there wobbled and crashed to the floor, shattering.

"That's impossible... how can this be?"

He muttered to himself for a moment, then suddenly rushed toward the bedroom like a madman.

I heard the loud bang of the closet doors being flung open, clothes being torn down in heaps.

Then the sound of him crouching down to search under the bed, the storage boxes on the balcony being turned upside down.

The whole place looked like it had been ransacked by thieves.

Ten minutes later, he emerged covered in dust, shaking his head with vacant eyes:

"Nothing... there's nothing."

I leaned against the wall, my legs so weak I could barely stand, and finally fumbled for my phone with shaking hands to dial 911.

The police arrived quickly.

Two uniformed officers followed the forensics team through my door while I was still trembling all over.

I nearly dropped the glasses when I tried to hand them water.

I told them everything from start to finish.

From the mysteriously disappearing fried egg at breakfast months ago, to the lipstick stains that suddenly appeared on my freshly washed white shirt collar.

Then to last night's incident. Tears streamed down my face as I spoke.

The forensics team, wearing white gloves, examined the entire place.

The doors and windows were intact. The lock showed no signs of tampering.

The security bars I'd installed last month were welded tight, without even a gap large enough for a hand to squeeze through.

The forensics team swept the entire house with their equipment. No bugs, no hidden cameras.

Not even a hidden compartment to hide someone.

"We'll go check the building's surveillance footage."

One of the officers, named Brown, patted my shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't panic just yet."

McMenaman and I followed them to the property management security room.

With the police present, we fast-forwarded through all the surveillance footage from yesterday afternoon when I left to this morning when I returned.

The footage clearly showed that at 5:20 yesterday afternoon, I walked out of the building entrance wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, carrying a canvas bag.

I never returned after that.

At 11:07 PM, McMenaman entered the building. He didn't leave until 8:10 AM to buy breakfast.

During that time, except for delivery people and food couriers stopping on the floor, no strangers had entered or exited my floor.

McMenaman's face lost all color. He gripped the edge of the security desk, his voice shaking:

"That's impossible... then who was with me last night?"

"Her voice, her bodyeverything was exactly like Sean. I really didn't mistake it. Sean, you..."

"Is now really the time for this?"

I cut him off, my nails digging into my palms until they bled, then turned to the officer.

"Officer, I've suspected someone was in my home before."

"Actually, I've felt something was off for a while."

"Sometimes I'd pour water in the morning before leaving, and when I came home at night, the glass would be moved a few centimeters."

"A sandwich I made and left on the dining tableI'd turn around to get milk, and come back to find half of it missing."

"Clean white T-shirts I'd washed and hung in the closet would have yellow stains on the collar before I even wore them, like someone had worn them and gotten foundation on them."

"And last week, the keys I'd left on the shoe cabinet by the entranceI clearly remembered putting them there, but when I got home from work, they were on the dining table. I thought I'd misremembered at the time, but now it's obvious I didn't."

After listening, Officer Brown brought the forensics team back to my place.

They searched inside and out for over an hour, even removing some ceiling panels to check, tapping on the utility shaft walls. Still nothing.

Finally, Officer Brown sighed and left me his contact information:

"We'll go back and review the past three months of surveillance footage. If you notice anything unusual, call me immediately."

"It's also possible you've been under too much work stress lately and your memory is playing tricks on you. If you're really worried, you might want to get checked out at a hospital. You should probably avoid staying here for now."

After the police left, only McMenaman and I remained in the house. The atmosphere was so oppressive I could barely breathe.

We sat on the sofa. Neither of us spoke first.

Only the sound of our heavy breathing.

After a long while, I got up to pack my suitcase.

McMenaman hesitated, then came over to help me pack:

"You're right, we can't stay here. Let's go to a hotel first."

At the hotel, after checking in, McMenaman immediately pulled out his phone to call a security camera company:

"I need you to send someone over tomorrow morning to install cameras with storage cards in my home. Cover every blind spot. Money is no object!"

After hanging up, he came over to hold me, his hands still shaking:

"Don't be scared. I refuse to believe we can't catch whoever's playing these tricks."

I leaned into him, but there was no warmth in my heart.

I didn't tell him that half a month ago, I'd secretly hidden a small camera in the air conditioning vent.

It went dark the very next day.

I thought it was a quality issue and changed it out three times.

Each one mysteriously broke after a few days of use, never capturing anything.

Would it be the same outcome this time?

Early the next morning, McMenaman brought me back home.

We personally watched the workers install four high-definition cameras in every corner of the living room, bedroom, and balcony, covering every angle with no blind spots.

After testing, the workers assured us that this model was waterproof, tamper-proof, with stable signal, and wouldn't easily malfunction.

After the workers left, we returned to the hotel and stared at the camera feeds on our phones.

We watched for an entire day. The camera feeds remained quiet, not even a breeze stirring the curtains.

I felt even more uneasy.

In this anxious state, Officer Brown called in the evening.

"Miss Sean, we reviewed three months of surveillance footage from your building complex today."

"Besides you and your boyfriend, only your friend Dottie visited once last month. No other outsiders have entered or exited."

"All the strangers in the hallway were delivery people or food couriers. We verified all their identities. No suspicious persons."

Finally, his tone took on a tactful persuasive quality:

"Miss Sean, I suggest you go to the hospital for a checkup. Perhaps you've been under too much work stress lately and your memory is off. Don't feel bad about it."

After hanging up, my heart sank even deeper.

McMenaman listened to the call and ran his hands through his hair in frustration, then stood up and grabbed his pajamas, heading to the bathroom:

"Babe, I'm going to take a shower. After that, let's go out for some of that sushi you love. Let's not think about this for now."

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the traffic outside the window, my mind in chaos.

Could it really be my mental state?

But those mysteriously disappearing breakfasts, the stained clothes, the person impersonating meit was all so real, not a hallucination at all.

I sighed and looked back, instinctively glancing at my phone on the nightstand.

The screen was displaying the live feed from home.

But the next second, I froze completely.

The surveillance feed that had been clear and normal just moments ago was now pitch black.

A big X marked the signal bars, like a closed eye.

My blood ran cold. I jumped up. The cameras were out again!

Before, I could comfort myself that it was poor camera quality or the wifi cutting out.

But today's cameras were brand new, using independent data cards, with new storage cards too.

Even if the network went down, they should still store footage locally. How could they go black without warning?

If before I could fool myself about camera quality, after yesterday's incident, I was one hundred percent certainthere was definitely someone in my house!

I grabbed my bag and phone from the table. Without even putting on my jacket, I yanked open the hotel room door and rushed out.

I ran to the hotel entrance and flagged down a taxi, my voice trembling as I gave my home address.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror but didn't dare ask questions. He hit the gas and drove toward my apartment complex.

On the way, McMenaman called. His voice was panicked, with the sound of running water in the background:

"Babe, where did you go? I was halfway through my shower when I heard the door slam. Why didn't you say anything before leaving?"

"The cameras are all out!" I shouted, crying. "That person is in my house right now!"

McMenaman shouted in panic:

"Wait for me, I'm coming right now. Don't do anything rash! Sean, just stay where you are and wait for me!"

"I can't wait!"

I bit my teeth and hung up, then pulled up Officer Brown's WhatsApp. My hands shook so much I had to retype several times:

[Officer Brown, the new cameras in my home went dark. I suspect someone's in my house. I'm heading there now. Please come quickly!]

As soon as I sent the message, the taxi arrived at the complex entrance.

I paid and rushed into the building.

The elevator was occupied and stopped on a high floor. I bit my lip and turned into the stairwell, climbing toward the 12th floor.

Halfway up, I kept feeling footsteps behind me. When I looked back, there was nothingjust the green exit sign glowing.

I didn't dare stop. I bit my teeth and kept climbing, my legs so weak I nearly collapsed on the stairs.

I finally made it to the 12th floor, leaning against the wall and gasping for breath.

When I pulled out my keys, the keychain fell to the ground with a loud clatter that echoed sharply in the quiet hallway.

I picked it up with shaking hands and inserted the key into the lock.

The moment I turned it, I smelled the citrus aromatherapy I usually used wafting from inside.

I took a deep breath and shoved the door open hard.

The living room light was on.

Warm yellow light fell on the sofa, where a woman sat with her legs crossed.

She wore one of those black sheet masks I regularly used. Her hair was styled in the same big waves as mine. She was scrolling through my iPad with her legs crossed.

Hearing the door open, she slowly looked up and peeled the mask off her face.

I froze in place.

The face she revealed was exactly the same as mine!