Ayesha, poised and elegant in a silk gown, stands before the vanity, her arms folded tightly. Across from her, Zara, younger and dressed in bold, mismatched layers, leans against a mirror, her eyes smoldering. Their voices clash, echoing off the glass and gilded frames.
"You steal my style because you have no identity of your own!"
"And you only care about your looks because you’re empty inside! I wish I didn't have to see your face anymore!"
Their hands grip the jar’s handles, knuckles whitening. Inside, a swirl of dark smoke spins faster as their anger grows. The reflections around them pulse, distorting their features into grotesque masks.
"I’m sick of being the 'perfect' one for you to mimic!"
"And I'm sick of being your shadow!"
The lesson hangs heavy in the air: jealousy poisons not only the envied, but corrodes the very core of the envious.
Silence reigns as both sisters freeze, staring at the fractured jar between them. The chandelier’s light flickers, casting elongated shadows that crawl up the walls. Ayesha lets out a smirk, breaking the tension.
"Fine. If you want to be 'unique,' go ahead."
She strides toward the mirror, her steps regal but tinged with defiance. But as she peers close, she gasps, hand flying to her mouth in horror.
Zara saunters over, a sneer on her lips. "What? Is there a grey hair? Finally?" Yet when she looks into the glass, her bravado shatters. She screams—a raw, desperate sound. In the reflection, Ayesha’s face is gone, replaced by smooth, blank skin, a living mask. On Zara’s own head, two faces writhe and struggle—her own and Ayesha’s—fusing grotesquely, neither dominating.
Ayesha turns, her faceless head tilting with eerie curiosity. Though mouthless, her voice resonates, muffled yet unmistakable, like words spoken through mist.
"You said you didn't want to see my face... and you said you didn't want to be my shadow."
Zara stares in terror as her hands dissolve into wisps of shadow, fingers flickering out of existence. Ayesha reaches out, her blank visage looming, the air thick with dread.
"Now, I am the shadow... and you are both of us."
