The world came back in fragments.A fluorescent ceiling.A buzzing tube light.The faint click of a pen.
Everything felt too sharp .... like the edges of reality were fresh and I was cutting myself on them with every breath.
The nurse hovered near the doorway, still shouting for someone. Footsteps thundered, doors swung open, and the room filled with white coats and worried faces.
But their voices were distant, muffled under an invisible layer of static.Like I was listening from underwater.Or like the world hadn't finished stitching itself back together yet.
"Can you hear me?""Lira, blink twice if you understand.""Don't push her, she just woke up...."
My eyelids felt heavy, like someone glued memories behind them.I blinked twice.The room exhaled in relief.
They kept talking ; but all I could hear was the faint hum.The lullaby.The off-key whisper threads itself between the beeps of the monitor.
Hush now… hush now…
I felt goosebumps He was still here.Somewhere.
But I didn't dare turn my head yet.I wasn't sure what I'd see.
The doctor leaned closer, shining a small light into my eyes. "Your pupils are reacting normally. That's a good sign."
He paused, frowning."Though your irises look darker than before…"
I swallowed hard.He wasn't wrong.It wasn't the lighting.My eyes were darker. Almost… bruised.
Almost like hers.
The doctor scribbled something on a chart. "We'll run more tests once you're stable."
Behind him…The heart monitor's reflection shifted.
For a second, I saw a tall black figure standing behind him, its head tilted at an unnatural angle ..... like it was studying me.
I blinked.Gone.
Psychiatric, I thought. They're going to say I'm psychiatric.And honestly?Maybe they'd be right.
The voices, the corridors, the doors…The fire.The deal.
It all felt like a nightmare ; except nightmares don't follow you into reflections. Nightmares don't smile back. Nightmares don't say your name like they're claiming it.
"Honey?"A soft voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.
A woman stood at the foot of my bed.Late 30s.Hair tied messily.Eyes tired but hopeful.
Mom.My stomach twisted with an emotion I couldn't name.
She took a shaky step forward, hand covering her mouth. "Baby… you're awake… you're really awake…"
Her voice cracked.And something about her tone felt familiar and wrong at the same time.
I should've felt comfort.Warmth.Relief.
But instead…I felt watched.
Not by her.By something standing behind her.
I focused on the cabinet's reflection.There ... a shadow loomed, tall and still, its fingers brushing the air inches from her shoulder.Not touching.Just… hovering.
Waiting.
My breath hitched.
Mom rushed forward. "Sweetheart? What is it? You're pale."
I forced my eyes away from the reflection."I ....I'm fine."
Lie.Every cell in my body was screaming otherwise.
She sat beside me, stroking my hand."You've been gone for so long," she whispered. "Nine years. And you finally came back."
Her fingertips brushed the back of my hand .... and for a split second, I felt the faintest shock.Static.Cold.
I pulled back instinctively, and her face fell."Sorry," I blurted."I didn't mean..."
"It's okay," she whispered. "I know you're scared."
The doctor cleared his throat. "Coma patients often wake with disorientation, memory issues, hallucinations, even paranoia....."
Paranoia.Yeah.Try telling them the shadow you left in the burning forest is now standing behind your mother like a guardian demon.
Mom squeezed my fingers."It's alright. We'll take it slow. You don't have to remember anything yet."
But I did remember.Everything I didn't want to.Everything I tried to bury.
The doors.The fire.The children.
His voice whispering, You promised.
A coldness slithered down my spine.
I glanced again at the cabinet's reflection.The shadow was gone.
Relief flooded meUntil the mirror itself shifted.A black ripple pulsed across its surface, like ink beneath glass.
Then…hands pressed against the inside of the mirror.
Small hands.Child-sized.Dozens of them.
Their fingers dragged down the mirror, leaving black streaks.
My lungs locked.
I gripped Mom's arm."Don't look behind you," I whispered.
She froze."Why?"
The reflection's hands curled into fists, pounding silently against the glass.Their muffled screams filled my head, layered over the lullaby.Wake us.Wake us.Wake us.
They weren't dead.They weren't alive.They were stuck.
Because of me.
Mom looked frightened now. "… what's wrong honey?"
I stared at the mirror, unable to look away as the pounding grew more frantic."They want out," I whispered."And they think I owe them."
Mom started to turn.
I grabbed her wrist."Don't."
The lights flickered.The air thickened.The lullaby grew louder, climbing the walls like vines.
And then ....a voice echoed from the mirror.
His voice.Low.Soft.Too close.
"You're awake...."
The mirror cracked.Once.Twice.
"Now we can finish what we started."