PART TEN — THE GIRL WHO WOKE UP
The old woman smiled.
“Run.”
Amy grabbed the girl's hand.
They ran.
Past the kitchen.
Past their mother.
Past the little girls who stood silently in the hallway.
But the house seemed to grow longer with every step.
Door after door appeared.
And behind every door—
someone was crying.
“Don't look,” Amy whispered.
But the girl stopped.
One door was slightly open.
Inside, she saw herself.
Sleeping.
In her bedroom.
She stared at the sleeping girl.
Then looked at Amy.
“That's me.”
Amy's face changed.
“No.”
The girl stepped closer.
“That is me.”
“No,” Amy repeated.
“That's the girl you were supposed to become.”
The girl turned.
“What does that mean?”
Amy's eyes filled with tears.
“You were never the one who survived.”
Silence.
Then the girl heard a voice behind her.
Her own voice.
“Wake up.”
Everything disappeared.
She opened her eyes.
Her bedroom.
Morning.
Sunlight.
Her mother was sitting beside the bed, crying.
“Mum?”
Her mother grabbed her hand.
“You're awake.”
The girl looked around.
Everything was normal.
No blood.
No Amy.
No old woman.
She laughed nervously.
“It was all a dream.”
Her mother didn't answer.
The girl sat up.
Then she noticed something on her wrist.
A thin red mark.
Like a handprint.
She slowly looked toward the mirror.
Her reflection was smiling.
But she wasn't.
The girl froze.
Her reflection raised one finger to its lips.
“Shh.”
Then it whispered:
“She thinks you're Eni.”
The girl stopped breathing.
Behind her reflection stood Amy.
The girl turned around.
Nobody.
She looked back at the mirror.
Amy was still there.
And this time, she wasn't smiling.
She pointed toward the bedroom door.
The girl slowly turned.
Her mother was standing there.
Holding a knife.
The exact same knife from the dream.
Her mother whispered:
“You remembered.”
The girl stared at her.
“No…”
Her mother stepped forward.
“You were never supposed to wake up.”
The girl looked at the mirror one last time.
Amy mouthed something.
RUN.
The lights went out.
And in the darkness, the girl's voice whispered:
“Mum…”
Her mother answered from somewhere behind her.
“Yes, Eni?”
The girl swallowed.
Then smiled.
Because she finally understood.
Her mother had just called her by the wrong name.
And somewhere in the darkness—
Amy laughed.
THE END.
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