This story happened to me in my apartment about a year ago. My mom loves all sorts of antiques: statues, figurines, antiques, etc. We literally strewn with this whole house. One day she bought a mirror at a certain market, she said it she immediately looked more closely. The seller said that his father had made a mirror, but somehow used the same phrase, "if something with a mirror will not, let me know, I'm always here, I'm in the market Sergei Kravchenko." He smiled and gave her mother a mirror and disappeared into the crowd of people on the market. Soon, a mirror hanging in our apartment. It was perfectly beautiful. Memorable ornament box, some clippings on a wooden base frame made under the old. It is very suitable to my room (my mother decided to hang it up there) It is pleasing to the eye.
Once I came from the street late, it was somewhere around 2am. I walked into the room, undressed, and lay down on the bed to watch TV. Out of habit, I looked at myself in a mirror (it hung opposite the bed). I looked at myself and turned to watch TV, I soon again looked in the mirror. Then there was a horror. I was looked disfigured face: all the old wrinkled, his eyes were not the pupils, they were completely white, open mouth, gray hair and when it essentially covers the mouth it is very scary to me grins and then immediately open my mouth and moan moan and pulled ... me hands wrinkled and crooked fingers broken off. I immediately ran out of room on the street side of my room. I looked from the street through the window of the room and saw a silhouette wandering around the room, going in one direction or the other. This silhouette as if looking for something out there waiting for someone ...
When it was light, I went to my room strumming himself after a terrible fear and found a mirror fell on the floor.
I ran a search for the man who sold his mother is a terrible mirror, I came to the place where he traded but he was not found. There were other vendors and I asked them where is the most Sergei. I was in a stupor when they told me, "Sergei ???? Sergei died three years ago in his home when he came to visit his old and distraught father (he was mentally ill, but worked great masterpieces of this type of mirror), the father in a fit of his illness strangled him, and then he cut his own throat and already dead fell on the mirror made by him. They were buried together, and the mirror was gone ... »
I told my mother everything. We threw the mirror. Now in our apartment no antiquarian and all goes well.