The Mirror in the Attic Story for Kids
It was an old house, one that had been in the Sullivan family for generations. When Lily and her parents moved in, they were excited about the fresh start. The house had a charming look, with tall windows, creaky wooden floors, and an attic that Lily was eager to explore. Her parents warned her to stay out of the attic, but Lily was never one to follow all the rules. She loved adventures and mysteries, and the attic seemed like the perfect place to find both.
One rainy afternoon, when her parents were busy unpacking, Lily found the door to the attic cracked open. The stairs leading up were narrow and covered in dust, and the air smelled stale, but Lily wasn’t afraid. She stepped up slowly, her heart racing with excitement. As she reached the top, the attic was dark, save for a small beam of light coming through a crack in the roof.
The room was filled with old furniture, boxes of forgotten memories, and covered items, all hidden under dusty sheets. The moment Lily stepped in, her eyes caught something unusual in the far corner—a large, full-length mirror standing against the wall. It was covered in a cloth, but its edges seemed to glimmer in the dim light.
Her curiosity piqued, Lily walked over to the mirror and pulled the cloth off. The mirror was beautiful, with a gold frame decorated with intricate designs. But there was something odd about it. The reflection seemed a little… off. Lily’s own face stared back at her, but it was too still, too perfect. Her reflection didn’t move when she did.
“That’s strange,” Lily muttered to herself. She waved her hand in front of the mirror, but her reflection didn’t mimic the movement right away. It was like the mirror was frozen, waiting.
She stepped closer, her breath misting on the cold glass. And then it happened. Her reflection blinked—after she blinked.
Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She took a step back, confused and uneasy. “No way,” she whispered. She had heard stories about haunted mirrors, but she never thought they were real. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe the mirror was old and worn. But something about the way it felt—cold, like it was pulling her in—made her shiver.
As she stood there, staring into the mirror, a soft voice whispered her name.
“Lily…”
It was faint, like a breeze passing through the room, but Lily was sure she heard it. She looked around, but the attic was empty.
“Lily…” The voice came again, louder this time.
Lily’s heart raced as she turned back to the mirror. She saw something now. It was as if the reflection was changing. The background behind her face was shifting, turning into a dark, swirling mist. And in the mist, Lily saw something—or someone—moving toward her.
The reflection in the mirror was no longer just hers. There was a figure standing behind her, cloaked in shadows. The figure was tall and thin, with eyes that gleamed red in the dim light. It was staring at her, but when Lily spun around, no one was there.
She was frozen in place, too scared to move, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror. The figure in the reflection began to move closer, its steps slow and deliberate. It reached a hand out, its fingers long and thin, and touched the surface of the glass.
Lily gasped, her skin prickling. The hand in the mirror pressed against the glass, and the mirror began to shake. She backed away, but the reflection’s hand continued to move, as though it was trying to reach out to her.
“Who are you?” Lily whispered, her voice trembling.
The figure didn’t answer, but its eyes seemed to glow brighter, and the mist around it grew thicker, swirling faster. Lily was too scared to turn and run. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Her breath became shallow as the figure in the mirror raised its hand, slowly, toward her.
Lily’s mind raced. She had to get away. This was not normal. She had to get out of the attic before it was too late. But she couldn’t tear herself away from the mirror. It was like the figure was holding her in place, locking her in a trance.
Finally, in a burst of energy, Lily turned and bolted for the stairs. She scrambled down the narrow steps, her heart pounding in her chest, but the voice still echoed in her ears.
“Lily…”
She didn’t stop running until she reached her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She stood there for a moment, gasping for air, trying to calm herself. What had just happened? She pressed her hand to her chest, still feeling the thud of her heartbeat in her ears.
After a long while, Lily went downstairs, trying to act normal. Her parents were still busy, and nothing seemed out of place. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the house was different now—darker, somehow. It was as if something was watching her.
That night, as Lily lay in bed, she couldn’t sleep. The image of the figure in the mirror kept replaying in her mind. She was just about to drift off when she heard something—a soft tap at the window.
Lily’s eyes snapped open, and she listened closely. There it was again—a soft tapping, like someone knocking on the glass.
Her room was on the second floor, and there was no way anyone could be outside her window. But the tapping grew louder, more urgent. She slowly got out of bed and walked to the window. Her heart was in her throat as she pulled back the curtains.
There was nothing there.
But when she turned to look at the reflection in the window, she froze.
Behind her, in the reflection, was the same dark figure from the attic.
It wasn’t just in the mirror anymore. It was standing in her room.
Lily’s breath caught in her throat as she turned around, but there was no one there. The room was empty.
Her eyes darted to the mirror beside her bed. It was clean, undisturbed. But the figure was still there, watching her from the reflection. Its eyes burned red, glowing brighter with each passing second.
Suddenly, Lily understood. The mirror wasn’t just a mirror. It was a doorway—a gateway to something dark. The figure wasn’t just a reflection. It was trying to pull her in.
With all her strength, Lily ran to the mirror in the attic, the one that had started it all. She grabbed it and threw a cloth over the glass, hoping to block out whatever dark force was inside. She ran down the stairs, out of the house, and into the night. Her parents were calling her name, but she didn’t stop.
Lily never returned to that house. The next morning, she and her family moved away, and the house on Oak Street was abandoned.
But every now and then, on quiet nights, when the wind is still and the moon is full, people passing by the house swear they can hear whispers calling from the attic. Some even claim they see a dark figure in the window, watching them.
And though Lily never spoke of it again, she knew deep down that the mirror was never really gone. It had simply found a new way to reach out.
Perhaps, just perhaps, it was waiting for someone else.
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