Last night, I got an email from my mom. That wouldn’t be strange except she passed seven years ago. And the worst part?
The email was about something that happened yesterday. I stared at the screen, my hands shaking. The email was short, just one sentence: 'It’s starting Check the mirror.' No sender address. No timestamp. Just those words.
What the hell was happening?
My mom always had this old vanity mirror in her room one she swore was 'special.' After she passed, I kept it in storage. Now, something was telling me to check it. So I did.
The mirror was exactly how I remembered dusty, scratched, ordinary. But as I wiped the surface, something appeared in the reflection. A date. Scratched faintly into the wood. It was tomorrow’s date.
I ran my fingers over the engraving. It wasn’t new it had been there for years. But I’d never seen it before. And then I noticed something else.
A tiny keyhole hidden along the frame.
I grabbed a flashlight and searched my mom’s old belongings, looking for anything that might fit. After nearly an hour, I found a small velvet pouch tucked inside one of her old coats.
Inside? A key.
My heart pounded as I slid the key into the mirror’s hidden lock.
Click.
The back panel popped open. Inside was an old, yellowed envelope.Written on the front, in my mom’s handwriting: 'If you’re reading this, it’s too late.'
I tore the envelope open. Inside was a folded note and a single Polaroid photo. The note read: 'They lied to you. Watch your back.' The photo? It was of my mom… taken last week.
I felt sick. My mom was dead. Buried. I’d been at her funeral.
So how was there a recent photo of her? And why did the timestamp on the back say it was taken tomorrow? Before I could even process it, my phone buzzed. Unknown Number.I hesitated, then answered.
A voice distorted, mechanical spoke: 'You should’ve left it alone. Now, they’re coming for you.'
The call cut off. My heart pounded. I grabbed the envelope and the photo, ready to leave when I noticed something in the mirror. A shadow.Standing right behind me.
I spun around nothing was there. But my reflection… It wasn’t me. It was my mom. Staring at me. And she looked terrified. As I bolted from the room, my phone buzzed again. Another message. 'Too late. They found you.' Then, from outside I heard the sound of tires screeching to a stop.
I don’t know what’s happening.
I don’t know who ‘they’ are. But I have 24 hours until whatever is supposed to happen… happens.
And if my mom was right, I might not survive it.
I didn’t wait to find out who 'they' were. I grabbed the envelope, the photo, and my car keys, then bolted out the back door. As I ran, I heard the sound of a car pulling up fast. Headlights cut through the darkness. Someone was here.
I ducked into the trees behind my house, my heart hammering.
From the shadows, I watched as two men in black suits stepped out of a sleek black sedan.
One of them pulled out a phone and muttered: 'Target is mobile. Begin retrieval.' Retrieval?
I wasn’t planning on being retrieved. I crept through the trees, keeping low. My car was parked down the block I just had to make it there.
Then, my phone buzzed. Another unknown number. I hesitated before answering. A mechanical voice whispered:
'Run. They have your location.'
I sprinted.
Behind me, I heard shouting then footsteps crashing through the brush. I made it to my car, yanked the door open, and tore down the street, tires screeching.
In the rearview mirror, I saw the black sedan flip its headlights on and take off after me. They were hunting me. I needed a plan. I glanced at the Polaroid of my mom. The timestamp said it was taken tomorrow. But the background a neon sign, a streetlamp looked familiar. I recognized the place. It was an abandoned diner outside of town. If my mom wanted me to see this photo, I had to go there.
I sped through empty roads, the black sedan still behind me.
Then, at the last second, I killed my headlights and took a sharp right onto an old service road. I waited in the dark as the sedan sped past, its taillights disappearing into the night. For now, I was safe. I turned back onto the road and drove to the diner.
The diner was just as I remembered rusted neon sign, broken windows, long abandoned.
But inside, one booth light was on.
Someone had been here recently.
And on the table? A manila folder with my name written on it. I sat down, hands shaking, and opened the folder.
Inside were medical reports, surveillance photos, classified documents. And one headline that made my stomach drop: 'Project Echo: Subject #12. Status: Terminated.' Beneath it was a name. My mom’s name.
The documents made no sense. One page detailed her 'disappearance' but my mom never disappeared. She got sick. We had a funeral. Or at least… I thought we did. Then I found a death certificate. Not hers. Mine.
My head spun. According to these files, I died six years ago. But I was right here. Alive. Reading this. And at the bottom of the last page, there was one final note.
Handwritten. 'If you found this, it means you’ve started remembering. They will erase you again. You need to run. – Mom'
My pulse pounded in my ears.
I checked my phone. Another unknown message: 'You have 6 hours left. After that, you won’t remember any of this.' Then, from outside the diner, I heard it The sound of approaching footsteps."
The diner lights flickered. The air felt heavier.
I wasn’t alone anymore. I grabbed the documents and the photo and backed toward the kitchen exit. Before I ran, I looked at the last page again. There was one final set of coordinates written at the bottom. I don’t know what I’ll find there. But if I want the truth, I have no choice but to go.
Everything I thought I knew about my mom and myself was a lie.
I have six hours before I forget everything. And now, someone’s coming for me.
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