The Mirror Is Always WatchingNovember 23, 2013, 0 Comments
It all began when I was seven years old. We had just moved into a new house and my room was perfect. We went shopping at an antique store and found a beautiful full-body mirror. It was sparkly greenish and had blue flowers along the outside. I tugged on my moms arm and showed it to her. It was only five dollars, so she bought it in a heartbeat. I hung it against the wall in front of my bed so I could always go to sleep looking at my reflection.
That night I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. I didn’t want to glance at the mirror because I was paranoid something very bad would happen. I finally looked in the mirror and saw a teenage girl wearing a long, white dress. She smiled at me; a cruel, evil smile. I gasped, and then she was gone. I rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, waking me up completely. I laughed to myself. I was just being silly. I walked back into my room and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning I got up, got ready, and walked outside to go to school. I passed by a telephone pole, and noticed a sign that had been put up. I read it and it said:
“Heather Grace Hearse. Missing since October 1, 2012. If found, please call 730-555-1274.”
I frowned and looked at the photograph. It showed a laughing teenage girl wearing a white dress, holding on to a boy roughly her same age. I nearly screamed. It was the girl I saw in the mirror.
Several years had passed and now I was ten. I was reading the newspaper while curling my hair. I saw an ad that said:
“Today Heather Grace Hearse was found dead in a river. This was very hard for Mr. And Mrs. Hearse, who had previously lost two daughters before her.”
I frowned. The name Heather Grace Hearse rang a bell, but I couldn’t quite remember. She felt like a forgotten friend from when I was little.
That night I stared at my reflection in my beautiful mirror for a long, long time. Suddenly, I saw a flash of white and an evil smile. I gasped, then heard a scream outside. I slipped on my boots and ran outside. I looked everywhere, then turned on the porch light. I was not prepared for what I had saw next. My older sister was leaving for a party, and she must have twisted her ankle wearing her high heels. She had fallen and cracked her head, and she lay motionless in a pool of deep blood. I tried as hard as I could to look away from the disturbing sight. Not until my father ran outside with a baseball bat did I realize I was screaming uncontrollably.
I woke up in the hospital with my parents. They were as white as a sheet and their eyes were bloodshot. I will not write any more about this incident because it is too difficult to write. What I do know is that every night I know Heather watches me and waits. She is always watching.
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