The night always begins in silence,
but for her, silence meant something else.
When she opened her eyes, she saw it written across the mirror:
“Let’s play... I’m your only playmate
At first, she thought she was dreaming.
But that doll… it wasn’t there before.
The candlelight flickered, and a shadow behind her smiled.
The reflection in the mirror was no longer hers,
something else was standing there, watching.

She lifted her finger to point,
and in that moment her skin began to change
full of holes, burning, tearing apart,
as if something inside her wanted to crawl out.

Some games are never meant to be played.

This piece explores the eerie sensation of trypophobia and the hidden fears beneath the skin.