The Mirror in the Hallway

Lexile: 1135 | Grade: 7

Passage

The mirror had always been there, tucked between the library and the art room. It wasn’t fancy—no golden frame or secret panel behind it. Just a rectangle of slightly cloudy glass with a chip in the top left corner. Most students walked past it without a glance. But not Leena.

Leena had noticed it in fifth grade. She didn’t know why, but something about it felt different. Sometimes, it reflected her exactly. Other times, it didn’t. Not in any supernatural way—just in mood. On days she felt brave, the mirror made her look taller. On days she was uncertain, her reflection seemed unsure too. It didn’t change her image, exactly. It just reflected something more than her outside.

Now in seventh grade, Leena still passed the mirror every day. She had stopped checking it on purpose, but she always knew it was there. A quiet presence. A question she hadn’t yet answered.

One rainy Thursday, everything felt off. Her group project had fallen apart. Her best friend was quiet and distant. She felt like a puzzle with the wrong pieces. On her way to art class, she slowed down near the mirror.

This time, the reflection surprised her. It looked like her—but older. Not in years, but in weight. As if she was carrying something invisible. The girl in the mirror didn’t smile or frown. She simply looked back. Waiting.

Leena didn’t flinch. She stood straighter. Not to impress the reflection, but to meet it. To admit: yes, things had changed. Yes, she had questions. Yes, she was still becoming. The mirror hadn’t changed. But maybe she had.

Later that day, she passed the mirror again, this time walking quickly with friends. She didn’t stop. She didn’t need to. She knew the mirror would still be there, holding space—not just for who she was, but for who she was becoming.