Dream Of Broken Mirror Novels & Stories

I just hope whoever he is, he is ready for the most unimaginable curses that are about to befall him for meddling into affairs that aren't his to interfere. I stared at the shards scattered on the floor then at the broken mirror by the vanity. It wasn't no ordinary mirror. I could see my purple eyes starting to change with slight significance that can only be obvious when in extreme close contact with anyone. Fuck! I need my damn potions right now and goddess help me I lay my hands on whosoever did this!

“Get her away from it. Now.” “Don’t!” Jasmine held up a hand. “If you touch me right now, I think she’ll get more.” More? Damn it, what had already been gone? Damien was at my side now, his breathing even, ready to strike. Ready to kill if necessary. But what’s the thing to aim at? I studied the mirror again. It wasn’t glass, not really. Not anymore. It was within it that Vira blinked, slow and heavy. “You’ve woken the cradle,” said the voice. Jasmine’s lips hadn’t moved, but the sound seemed to come from behind and in front of her at the same time. “You shattered the dream.” Jasmine flinched. Just a little. But I saw it.

She wished she could borrow his calm, but her own chest thrummed like a drum, restless, uncertain. Promise lay down, the ceiling blackened above her, Daniel’s quiet breathing steady at her side. Sleep did not come easily. When it did, she dreamed of a market filled with mirrors. Each mirror showed her wearing different faces, different clothes, different lives. In one, she wore velvet, applauded by strangers. In another, she was barefoot, shoulders bent beneath buckets of water. In yet another, she stood laughing with Daniel, her feet bare, her eyes clear. But in every reflection, her shoes were broken. Only her steps remained unbroken—echoing, multiplying, refusing to stop.

"I'll send you through the mirror, to those who I think can help you best to answer the witch's riddle.... But, if you answer wrong, cara puellashe'll put your head on a wooden stake." Indra stares into the mirror in front of her. She can see her two best friends lovingly embracing each other deep in the mirror’s reflection. She is so happy to see them again that she does not think twice and steps over the frame and straight through the ripple in the glass. The mirror arcs from her eager movement -before it illuminates brightly and shatters into thousands of small pieces.

"Today, not only the mirror shattered but also once again you shattered my heart into umpteenth pieces which could not get intact back to its place even after trying umpteenth times now. Thank God, today you chose her over me. Otherwise, I again started dreaming of us getting together.",Christian regretted,while muttering to himself. The room echoed with the weight of his words, the broken shards beneath him reflecting the fractured state of his heart. Christian's voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and sorrow as he recounted the actions that had reopened old wounds. The dim light in the room heightened the somber atmosphere, casting shadows that danced alongside the shards of the sh

But why do I still see the broken girl even if the mirror is not there anymore? The blood on my hands is proof that I did everything to make the broken girl go away, but she remains. I’m broken. And there is no fixing me. Even if there is no mirror, I will still be broken because the problem is not the mirror, it’s not the people who see me. The problem is ‘me’.

Suddenly, doubts flooded my mind, and I looked at Zane doubtfully. “It is not rocket science, Kayla. You just have to break that mirror. What is there to think this much about?” “Are you sure it is enough?” “Well, if you don’t think it is enough, just mutter something like ‘Abracadabra’ or ‘Open Sesame’.” I rolled my eyes at him before mustering my courage. It is just a mirror, Kayla. Just break it already. Then I threw the mirror on the ground with such force that it broke into at least a hundred pieces and I held my breath as I stared at it, holding my breath.

The law of spirits is not to interfere in human affairs without the permission of the master. “Please… Jamaica…” “Jamaica, help her.” My consciousness screams incessantly, here separating me from the outside world is a large, tall, sturdy mirror. I kept screaming and banging on that mirror. In response to a sound echoing from my impact, I stood up and kicked incessantly with my foot, until my shoes ripped open to reveal my toes. I used my hand again, this time I could no longer hear my cry or screams. The mirror is my eyes. I don't want to, I can't leave Irina alone, through the glass I see Irina has been injured by the other guy, I don't know how much time has passed, but the first ray of t

"Die! Die you evil thing!" I continued screaming as I hit the glass repeatedly, but halfway through I realized the mirror wasn't breaking and falling to the floors but rather it remained glued to the wall, just having several crack lines without even a piece falling off. "Wh-what?" I asked breathlessly at the realization, "what sort of mirror is this?" My hand was already bloody all over and the glass hasn't fallen off at all. "I need to get something... Something bigger" I mumbled to myself and rushed back into the now completely destroyed bedroom, nothing was left untouched, not even the bed, as I had cut through it, releasing most of its contents on the floors.

Every breath is too deep, like my lungs don’t remember how to work without resistance. The Child sits beside me on the broken sanctuary steps, their usual glow muted, flickering at the edges like a guttering candle. They’re staring at their hands, turning them over and over, as if checking for cracks. They don’t hum anymore. The Mirror shard is a dull, dead thing between us. "Hey," I whisper. My voice rasps, raw from screaming. Or maybe just from disuse. They don’t look up. "I dreamed of falling," they say. Not a dream. A memory. The void. The detachment. The cold.