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Okay, this story may sound wierd, but I promise you I'm not making his up. Yell at me all you want and tell me I'm psycho, but I really won't care.

I was brushing my teeth earlier, and I looked up into the mirror, and this guy that looked about my age as staring back at me. I spit out my toothpaste all over the sink, not looking away. I mean, would you? There are no guys that live with me, unless you count my dad, and you can ask any of my close friends about it and they'll tell you the same. But this boy had short brown hair and green eyes, and he was SMIRKING at me. I just took a deep breath and closed my eyes, hoping it was some kind of creepy daydream. But when I opened my eyes, he was still there. I sprinted out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, collapsing onto my bed. I've never really had anything like that happen to me.
After about an hour had passed and I got myself together, I went onto the internet to see if maybe there was something wrong with me. I didn't come onto anything until I found out about my house's history. Some fifteen year old guy died here because of supposed breathing problems. But there was no picture, so I wasn't sure if it was him or not. But I'm scared now, since I'm alone in my house. And I'm scared to look in ANY of the house's mirrors.