“The people He never talked about ren, but they were always there
“The people He never talked about ren, but they were always there. In the dust of old school, in the cracks of the teacher's house, even in the corners of the town, in the mirrors. No one remembers when they started, but the old people always say the same thing: Never look in the mirror. Don't do it , or the ren will find you. They have empty eyes, and their smiles are a cruel mockery of the concept of innocence. When they look at you, something in you is erased. Maybe it's not you, but the you were most afraid of being, trapped in your own reflection. They are not human. They never were. They come from somewhere else, from a place that doesn't exist, and once they reflect on you, you can't escape. They follow you. they call you . And they steal a piece of your soul every time you blink.
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“The people He never talked about ren, but they were always there. In the dust of old school, in the cracks of the teacher's house, even in the corners of the town, in the mirrors. No one remembers when they started, but the old people always say the same thing: Never look in the mirror. Don't do it , or the ren will find you. They have empty eyes, and their smiles are a cruel mockery of the concept of innocence. When they look at you, something in you is erased. Maybe it's not you, but the you were most afraid of being, trapped in your own reflection. They are not human. They never were. They come from somewhere else, from a place that doesn't exist, and once they reflect on you, you can't escape. They follow you. they call you . And they steal a piece of your soul every time you blink.
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![🎃 Old Postcard 🎃 [Flux]](https://image.cdn2.seaart.me/temp-convert-webp/highwebp/static/images/20241012/604599a2c14c7b73bd07a3ca879d1c69_low.webp)
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