30% of this is true. The house layout is the same, and I do get spooked by the mirror when it's dark. Also, it's true that I got so scared in my own room as a little girl that my parents moved my bed to their room, so that I could sleep in there with them, and not be scared.
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I hate darkness. I've hated it since I was very young. I always felt like someone... or something... was staring me down. Waiting till I blinked. Waiting to strangle me.
It got so bad that my parents eventually moved my bed into their room. They reminded me a lot that, "Nothing's in your room, honey. When you're ready, we'll move you back into your room."
One day, I realized there was no reason for me to be so frightened. After all, I had no problem being in there during the day. Unusual for six-year-old, I had a queen-sized bed, about five blankets, and a lot of stuffed animals. It helped when my dad set them up and made me an elite guard of plushies to keep me safe at night.
One day we moved from Illinois, all the way to Georgia. Goodbye rickety, two-story house, with a step missing, and hello happy, small, one-story house.
I was able to sleep on my own by then. However, this meant that I couldn't be turn on the lights... when I needed to go to the bathroom. After all, my little sister wouldn't be able to sleep if I turned the lights on.
When my grandma died, we were all very sad. We inherited a lot of her stuff. All of it, in fact, since she and her only daughter had a falling out, and my dad was her only family.
We also inherited a mirror.
Let me tell you about our house.
I live in the master bedroom, for the space, and for the built-in desk. My parents valued my artistic outlets very much. They even bought chalkboard-pint, so that my sister and I could draw on it.
My parents sleep in a creepy, windowless room with just enough space for their desk, a wall-mounted TV, and their bed.
Outside there, is the other bedroom, which is my hallway, my dad's office, and the only way to the master bathroom.
...
Like I said, we got a mirror from my grandmother. It was positioned right across from the door of the bathroom. A horrible position. It was a big mirror, not even a small one.
I hated walking through the office in the dark. It was like an ocean. I'd gotten so used to walking through their in the day, I could skillfully navigate through their with no trouble. However, despite knowing where I was going, I hated walking through the dark. It made me feel like someone was... watching me...
Due to this faintly glowing nightlight in the bathroom, I always saw this faintly glowing grunge-girl in the mirror when I went to use it. I quickly realized it was just me and my wild bedhead. Of course, the first few times, I got spooked by it. I hated that mirror, because it always embarrassed me. I mean, I was getting so old. Why was it still so scary?!
I gained a habit. I got cocky. I don't know why. It was nothing to be cocky about, but whenever I saw the little grunge-girl in the mirror, I smirked. I was teasing myself. Saying, "Hey, there's no need to be scared. It's just you in the mirror. And you're not that scary!"
One day, though, I didn't see myself in the mirror. I don't know why, but it was ominous to me. I should've been happy to be rid of my horrid reflection, but then I turned on the lights.
I realized right then...
...
The little girl in the mirror wasn't me.
She was someone else, someone older... and she was staring right back at me.
