Twenty Years Gone

Twenty Years Gone


The rain hadn’t stopped for three days.
It drummed endlessly against the broken tiles of the old Patel house, as if time itself was knocking—waiting to be let in.
Smita stood at the rusted gate, her fingers trembling, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the cold… or the memory.
Twenty years.
Twenty years since she had last stepped here. Twenty years since that night.
The villagers still whispered about it.
“એ ઘર માં કાંઈક છે…”
(There’s something in that house…)
But Smita didn’t believe in whispers anymore.
She believed in truth.
And tonight, she was going to find it.
The Disappearance
Back then, Smita was just twelve.
Her best friend, Riya, lived in this very house. Every evening, they would play under the neem tree, laughing, sharing secrets, promising they would never leave each other.
Until one night… Riya vanished.
No footprints. No struggle. No scream.
Only one thing was found.
A small diary… with one line written repeatedly:
“He watches from the mirror.”
The police called it a kidnapping.
The villagers called it a curse.
Smita… never forgot.
The Return
The gate creaked open.
Inside, the house smelled of dampness and something older… something rotten.
Smita stepped in, her torch flickering.
The walls were peeling, but the mirrors—
There were too many mirrors.
On the walls. On the doors. Even the ceiling.
“Riya?” she whispered.
Her voice echoed unnaturally, as if someone else whispered it back… a second too late.
She moved deeper.
Every step felt watched.
Every mirror felt… alive.
The First Sign
She stopped.
In one mirror, she saw herself.
In another… she didn’t.
Her reflection stood still, even though she moved.
Smita froze.
“No…” she muttered.
The reflection smiled.
But Smita hadn’t.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The reflection tilted its head.
And then…
It spoke.
“You came back…”
The Truth in the Diary
Smita ran to the old cupboard, where she had hidden Riya’s diary years ago.
It was still there.
Untouched.
She flipped through trembling pages.
Drawings… distorted faces… shadows.
And then the final entry:
“It lives in reflections. It waits until you notice. Once you see it… it sees you.”
A cold breath brushed her neck.
She turned slowly.
Every mirror in the room now showed the same thing—
Not her.
But Riya.
Pale. Hollow-eyed. Smiling.
The Revelation
“Smita…” Riya’s voice echoed from everywhere.
“Why did you leave me here?”
“I didn’t!” Smita cried. “I came back for you!”
Riya stepped out of the mirror.
Not walking.
Sliding.
Like she didn’t belong to the floor.
“You saw it that night,” Riya whispered.
“You saw it take me… and you ran.”
Smita’s eyes widened.
The memory hit her.
The mirror.
The shadow.
Riya screaming—
And Smita… running.
“I was scared…” she whispered.
Riya smiled wider.
Too wide.
“So was I.”
The Horror
Suddenly, all the mirrors cracked at once.
A deafening sound.
From each broken surface, black hands began to crawl out.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Reaching.
Grabbing.
Smita tried to run, but the floor felt like it was pulling her down.
“Stay…” the voices whispered.
“Stay with us…”
Riya’s face came close.
“Twenty years… I waited.”
Smita screamed.
The Final Entry
The next morning, the villagers found the gate open.
Inside the house… silence.
No sign of Smita.
Only a diary… lying on the floor.
Fresh ink.
A new line written again and again:
“She watches from the mirror.”
Epilogue
If you ever walk past an old house…
And see your reflection pause…
Just for a second…
Don’t look again.
Because sometimes…
It’s not your reflection anymore.