The Girl In The Mirror

Have you ever had that strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, the feeling that someone or something is watching you? Well, never ignore that feeling. I did once, and I almost didn't live to tell the tale. It was a night I never will forget, the night I was watched by something not quite human...

I was eating my supper that evening when I first felt it. At first it was only a slight uneasy feeling, but it grew until my stomach felt so tight I could barely stand it.

I stood. "I'm going to bed," I told my mother. "Put my supper in the fridge for me, please."

Mom looked worried. "You've barely even touched your dinner," she protested. "Are you sick?"

"Mom, I'm fine. Don't be so nervous about my health."

"You know your immune system is weak."

"Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean that every time I want to go to bed early, I'm sick. You're immune system is weak, too. I'm fine." I pushed my chair in and went to my room.

When I had changed, I jumped into bed and shut my eyes, but I couldn't sleep because the feeling was still there.

"Don't be silly, Morgan," I told myself. "You're just letting your imagination run away with you. Go to sleep."

Then I heard the voice. "I can see you, girl," it said.

I clapped my hands over my ears, because the voice was like fingernails down a chalkboard. Then I took my hands away and looked around the room. It was empty.

I laughed nervously. "You're hearing things, Morgan," I said to myself. "Get a grip."

The voice came again. "I'm watching you, girl, and I'll give you one chance. You'd better get away now, while you still can. Get out of the house now, before it's too late."

"Who - who said that?" I asked, but no answer came. I looked around the room again. "Is anybody there?"

"I am," said another voice. It was soft, young, and female.

I looked around the room again. "Where are you?"

"I'm over here, in the mirror."

I looked at the mirror. I saw a busy street, and an adorable little girl looking at me. She couldn't have been any more than six or seven years old, and she was wearing a patched and faded brown dress that was several sizes too small for her. She had short brown pigtails and freckles, and she looked very dirty. "Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Acantha May Robinson. Who are you?"

"My name's Morgan McCarmac. What are you doing in my mirror?"

"I don't know!" cried Acantha. "I'm lost!" She started to cry, the tears making clean paths down her dusty cheeks.

"Who are your parents? Maybe I can help you."

"I don't have any parents. I live in an orphanage, and when I get back, Mr. Davies will smack me because he'll think I ran away when really I just got lost!" she wailed.

"Don't cry," I said, for some reason not thinking for instant that talking to a little girl in a mirror was at all unusual. "Nobody's going to hurt you. I'm going to help you."

Suddenly Acantha was all smiles. "Oh, goody!" she cried, clapping her hands and jumping up and down with glee. "Come over to the mirror."

I was about to obey when I noticed the greedy look on Acantha's face and was suddenly afraid of her.

"Come over to the mirror, I said!" she ordered, her voice growing harsh.

"No," I said.

"You have no choice now," she said, her voice growing screechy like fingernails down a chalkboard. It was the voice i had heard before. Her flesh melted away into a hideous skeleton. "You said you'd help me!"

"No," I whispered. "Get out of my room."

"I warned you to get out while you still could!" she shrieked. "Now it's too late!"

I floated out of my bed towards the mirror. "No!" I screamed as she hooked her bony fingers onto my left wrist. "Help! Mom, come quick! Help me!"

"Scream all you want, girl! No one can hear you now that I'm touching you! You're mine now, all mine! You're the last one until I'm alive again, and immortal, and free!"

"No!" I screamed. "You can't do this to me!"

"Oh, yes, I can. All I have to do is get you over to this side, and then I drain your sould and I'm immortal!"

I was through the mirror over halfway, but I grabbed the side of the mirror and struggled for my life. Acantha, or whatever her real name was, just laughed and pulled even harder.

Then, with my last bit of strength, I twisted my arm around and kicked at her wrist. Her hand broke off, and she fell backwards, shrinking away until she disappeared. I lost consciousness.

I awoke on the floor of my room. My mother was shaking me gently. "Morgan, Morgan, wake up," she said.

I slowly sat up. What a nightmare, I thought to myself.

"What were you doing up here?" she asked. "I heard the strangest noises. And what's this?"

I gasped. She was holding the bones of a child's hand.