The Ballerina and the Mirror

Growing Up with Scary Stories

When I was young, I loved scary stories. They were more than just entertainment — they were a kind of shared ritual among friends, told in hushed voices to see who would flinch first. Some of those tales have faded from memory, but others have stuck with me for decades.

One that still lingers is a story about a ballerina and a mirror. I don’t remember every detail perfectly, but I remember enough — and the twist ending is what still makes me shiver today.

The Ballerina in the Gym

The story goes like this:

There was a girl who loved ballet. She practiced tirelessly because she had an important performance coming up. One evening, she stayed late at her school gym to rehearse, perfecting her spins and steps under the tall ceiling.

She lost track of time. By the time she noticed, the lights had been turned off and the doors locked. The janitor had closed up for the night, not realizing anyone was still inside.

At first, she panicked. She tried every door, every exit, but there was no way out. Finally, exhausted, she accepted her fate: she would have to spend the night there.

But instead of sitting still, she decided she might as well keep practicing. The moonlight filtered in through the high windows, catching on the large mirror along the gym wall. It was enough to let her see her reflection, moving gracefully in the dim light. She spun. She leapt. She twirled. All the while, her reflection twirled with her.

The hours passed.

At last, the morning sun crept through the windows. The doors were unlocked. Relieved, she gathered her things to go home. But when she turned back for one last look… her heart froze.

There was no mirror in the gym.

Why It Stuck With Me

It’s such a simple story, but it still gives me chills. What terrified me wasn’t the ghost itself — it was the idea that all night long, she had been practicing with something she thought was her reflection. That the comfort of the familiar — the mirror — was an illusion.

The story ends right there, and that’s enough. You’re left with the dreadful realization that what she saw was not herself at all, but something else, something patiently copying her every move.

A Cultural Note

Looking back, I realize this tale is part of a broader tradition in Korean folklore: the mirror ghost (거울 귀신, geoul gwishin). Mirrors were often seen as portals or traps, showing things that didn’t belong in our world. Parents even used to warn children not to stare into mirrors at night, lest they see something looking back.

In Korean “school ghost stories” (학교 괴담), which were especially popular in the 80s and 90s, lonely classrooms and gyms became natural stages for ghosts. The ballerina story is one of many variations: sometimes it’s a pianist in the music room, sometimes a singer in a choir room, but the twist is always the same. The reflection you trusted wasn’t really you.

Why I Still Think About It

I’ve heard many scary stories growing up, and this one is unforgettable. Maybe it’s because it’s so visual — I can picture the moonlit gym, the girl twirling gracefully, the soft echo of her slippers on the wooden floor. And then, that horrible realization: the mirror was never there.

Even now, when I’m alone and catch my reflection at night, I sometimes pause. Just for a second, I wonder — is it really me staring back?

💀