Broken Mirror In A Dream Novels & Stories

The big mirror was at the far end of the bath and I don't know why I suddenly felt a shiver all over my body. "Grandma, why did I just see that mirror now?" Despite the dim light from the two lamps, the large mirror did not fail to show my clear reflection. "Spade?" I said taking a closer look at the design of the glass on the top. Suddenly I thought of the man they call His Highness in my dream. Especially when I remember some words he said, "I may not have a spade birthmark..." What does my dream mean? Why are the details so clear? Is it possible that grandma is not telling the truth and what I saw is true? Those people are interested in my blood.

The mirror room had been designed to project calm—a clean, symmetrical space with soft lighting and seamless glass meant to promote introspection. But tonight, it felt more like a maze of grief. Every wall reflected a different version of Isabella and Adrian: fractured, weary, straining beneath the weight of what they could no longer unsee or undo.

I hissed. I slammed my hand against the mirror again and cracks split across its surface, spreading like veins. The reflection’s voice turned desperate. “Rory, stop! You’ll destroy me!” “Good,” I whispered. The mirror broke. Pain burst through my armglass tearing my skin, blood spilling across the floor. I fell to my knees, gasping. The broken bits glowed softly, reflecting not Elias, not Selene but me. A thousand versions of me. Crying. Screaming. Laughing.

I frowned as I went to each mirror, looking for any form of escape. In the first mirror, I went from having a face like a Picasso painting to looking like a batter and broken version of myself looking lifeless on the cement floor of the torture room covered in blood. “Is that reality, and this just my final death dream? I thought you saw your life flash before your eyes when you died. This isn’t anything from my memories.” I frowned and moved to the next mirror.

“You’re scaring me.” I pointed toward the mirror, my voice trembling. “She’s… she’s not me.” He followed my gaze, frowning. “There’s nothing there.” The reflection laughed silently, eyes glinting like liquid silver. Then, before my eyes, it reached out and pressed its palm against the inside of the glass. A faint shimmer spread outward like ripples on water. The mirror moved. A pulse of light burst through the room. I screamed as Damien grabbed me, pulling me away just as a crack sliced down the center of the glass. The sound of breaking was deafening.

Now that she did, it turned out that George was so impressive in the bed. Noticing the weird stare Sigrid was giving him, Lucas did not understand what was going on. "This broken mirror is a Purification Mirror, and it can also be used to exorcise spirits. That's what he claims," Elizabeth told Sigrid. Sigrid stared at the mirror, trying to see if there was any mechanism that could directly turn this mirror into an exorcising tool. However, after inspecting it for a long time, she still couldn't wrap her head around it.

“I see things… strange things. Like my reflection isn’t really mine.” She looked at me with concern. “Ella, you’ve been through so much. Maybe you need to give yourself time to heal. Don’t let fear take hold.” But how could I? The more I tried to ignore the signs, the more insistent they became. --- One evening, I returned home to find my apartment door slightly ajar. My breath caught as I pushed it open, heart pounding in my ears. The room was untouched, not a thing out of place — except the mirror hanging in the hallway. Its surface was shattered, spiderweb cracks spreading out like fractured veins.

Panic clawed at my throat. I stumbled back, looking around. Taking a shaky breath, I blinked, hoping it was just a trick of the light, that she would appear, but she didn't. The mirror remained empty. Suddenly, the mirror shattered, exploding outwards in a shower of glass shards. I flinched, instinctively raising my arms to shield myself from the flying debris. My vision blurred as a wave of dizziness washed over me. When I recovered my bearings, a gasp escaped my lips. Each of the mirrors started to explode into a shower of glass around me. My bed vanished, and I was left in an endless darkness again.

If he is her mate, then he would surely reject them seeing how ruined and disgusting she was. “Alice! Don't say that. The scars mean nothing. He is meant for us.” Lenore snapped at her. “Alice yelled out loud; as she slammed her fist into the mirror. The glass cracked and shattered but held inside the mirror frame. She looked at the mirror surprised that she had hit it. Surprised that it was still intact. She looked at the mirror and hated it. The mirror was broken but still together. It could never be fixed but it was still together. She gritted her teeth, becoming more and more angry. She was the mirror, damaged, broken, ugly, and never being completely shattered but never being able to be

They watched us pass with expressions ranging from concern to outright fear. "The mirrors," I whispered to Julius. "Did they actually break, or was that part of the vision too?" "I don't know. We'll need to check." But when we passed the east wing, I had my answer. Every mirror along the hallway bore the same pattern with hairline fractures spreading from central points like spider webs. My breath caught. "It was real," I breathed. "Some of it was," Julius corrected grimly. "We just don't know which parts." The sitting room was already prepared. Elder Mira waited inside, along with three other council members. They all stood when we entered.