Mirror, Mirror

November 17, 2010
“This was the best trip ever!”

10-year-old Erica Thompson was as happy as a clam the day she and her family left Walt Disney World, Florida. Her mother and father had treated her to the trip after a fantastic 4th grade year. They were all three now on a plane back to their hometown of Chicago, Illinois.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun Erica,” said her mother, Elizabeth Thompson.

“I met so many friends there, but my favorite was Michael!” Erica said excitedly.

“Who was that? I don’t think I met him,” asked Mr. Andrew Thompson.

“Oh, he was just someone,” Erica brushed the question away quickly.

Three days after they had arrived back home, the Thompson family received a phone call from Erica’s best friend’s sobbing mother.
“Audrey was shot and killed last night! We don’t know how it happened! She was in her room! I just walked in! She was just lying on her bed!” Audrey’s mom cried between tears and hiccups.
“Oh, Sharon! I’m so sorry! What can I do?” Elizabeth asked, concerned.
“Please just tell Erica, and give her a hug for me; will you? I’m sure this will just crush her,” Sharon blubbered.
“Of course, dear. Thank you so much for calling and letting us know,” Elizabeth said.
After discussing the tragic event a bit more and getting as many details as the devastated Sharon would give her, Elizabeth hung up, turned, and slowly walked into the living room where Erica was watching TV. She sat down next to her and wrapped her into a big hug. Erica instantly went as stiff as a board. Elizabeth was so worried about the news that she barely even noticed her daughter’s strange behavior.
“I’m so sorry honey, something happened. Audrey was murdered last night. She was shot and her family is really upset…Are you okay?” Elizabeth said gently.
“Yeah…I’m fine,” Erica looked up at her mother with no emotion in her face and a blank look in her eyes.
This lone statement surprised Elizabeth but she didn’t push the subject any further.

Two days later the Thompson’s got a very similar phone call, only this one about the murder of Megan, another one of Erica’s friends. Erica’s reaction was quite similar and just as strange as her first one. Andrew and Elizabeth Thompson were amazed at how well Erica seemed to be taking these disasters. They hadn’t once seen her cry or look sad at all and when they had told her the news of the second death she hadn’t seemed fazed at all, she had just shrugged it off saying that same phrase over and over again, “I’m fine,” but saying it so passively that Mr. and Mrs. Thompson became worried about her. They also began to notice that she kept talking about Michael like she talked to him everyday, when they knew that she hadn’t gotten any phone calls or letters of any kind. This didn’t go unnoticed by Mr. and Mrs. Thompson but also didn’t disturb them too much. What did disturb them was the obvious lack of grief Erica felt for the loss of her friends. They began to talk to a psychiatrist they knew. The couple didn’t mention this to their daughter but instead did it very quietly.

One visit to a specialist on child trauma gave them confidence about the condition of their daughter. The psychiatrist, a small, outspoken woman with big, southern hair, cat-eye glasses, and a habit of putting on lipstick far beyond her lip line, felt Erica was just in shock.
“The suddenness of two of her very good friends dying within days of each other was bound to take a toll on her,” the women explained in a thick Swedish accent, “It’s quite a lot to ask of a small girl to take in in such a short time. I believe she is just still trying to adjust and comprehend what has happened in her life. She also may have gone into denial. Both of these things shouldn’t be of great concern. It will just take time to heal. You both need to just be there for her if she ever feels the need to talk.”
The Thompson couple thanked her for her explanation and advice. They strongly hoped that’s what was troubling Erica. But they couldn’t quite be sure because every time they tried to bring the subject up, Erica would become very quiet and refuse to say much.

One day, when the wind swirled and the leaves danced in the brisk breeze, after coming home late Elizabeth moved around the house very slowly making little noise. When she made her way upstairs, she heard a soft murmuring coming from the guest bedroom. She peeked around the door of the room and saw, standing in front of the large, gold framed mirror, Erica, who looked like she was talking to herself, but in the place of where her reflection should have been there was the face of an 18-year-old boy! This boy, Elizabeth saw, was actually talking to Erica! The face speaking to her daughter was in no way abnormal, no scars, no blazing, blood red eyes, just a very smooth, pale face, with deep set dark brown, almost black eyes. In the split second when Elizabeth first saw him she thought of the face of a marionette. His hair was a sloppy mess of golden brown. She could also see his long neck and his very broad shoulders. After marveling at this discovery, Elizabeth saw something that made her gasp loudly; in her 10-year-old daughter’s hand was a sleek, silver gun! At hearing her mother’s gasp, Erica quickly whirled around with a look of utter outrage blazing in her blue bonnet colored eyes.

“What are you doing?!” Erica screamed with a hint of insanity in her voice.

Before Elizabeth could answer, a cold, calm voice that sent shivers down her spine spoke out.

“Leave her alone, Erica. It’s only your mother,” the voice said, “now please, introduce her to me.”

“Mother, this is Michael, the boy I met on our trip I talked to him late at night in the giant Cinderella mirror,” Erica said obediently.

Elizabeth just stared, frozen with terror at the hatred that she saw dancing across her innocent daughter’s face

“I can see that you don’t understand,” Michael said, “You see, I’m a distant cousin of Bloody Mary, only I’m much more social. The people I converse with become my friends. I protect them and help make their lives better. Also, like Mary, I can go to any mirror, therefore I can follow my friends and always keep them company. I have taken a great liking to your clever daughter. She has been very cooperative.”

“Y-you, where did you get that gun?!” Elizabeth stammered when she finally found her voice.

“Michael gave it to me,” Erica explained calmly, “he also showed me the error of my ways with being friends with Megan and Audrey, and he is an angel who answered my prayers and helped me deal with the empty feeling inside of me. He explained to me that I would be doing everyone a favor if I just killed them, they were worthless, anyway.”

“You were the one who killed two of your closest friends?!” Elizabeth cried in disbelief.

“Of course, Michael has had experience with uncooperative friends. It’s the best thing to do, they weren’t doing anybody any good just staying here. Besides, it was easy. All I had to do was walk to their house, throw a rock at their window, have them let me in, walk up to their bedroom, turn around, and shoot them. You would be amazed at how well a silencer works. Their parents never heard a thing. It’s quite fascinating actually. It took thirty minutes at the most. You never even knew I was gone, and Michael was always waiting for me when I got home. He’s all I need.”

“But…why?!” Elizabeth asked, flabbergasted.
“Well, I got back from our trip and I got into a fight with Audrey. I told her about how great Michael is because I was foolish and thought she would understand. She flipped out and called me a freak! The nerve! I wanted to wring her neck right there! She doesn’t understand anything about me! I came home, told Michael, he calmed me down, and showed me how I could punish her with no one finding out. But something went wrong and Megan found out. So I had to do the same to her. Our secret couldn’t get out, that would just ruin all of Michael’s plans.”
“Yes, I’m just here to try to make other people’s lives better. I usually reside in the Cinderella mirror at Disneyworld which is where your daughter met me. You may have heard of the supposed “legend” of Bloody Mary. If you call her, she violently murders you. I am a variation of that. If you call me, even unknowingly like little Erica here, I will help give you the courage to murder anyone who is troubling you. I just make your life so much simpler.”
“I was sleep walking one night during our vacation and I found myself in front of the mirror in the lobby. I suddenly felt completely overwhelmed with the desire to say the name ‘Michael’ even though I had never met anyone named Michael before. I whispered the name very softly because I had no idea what would happen, all of a sudden I found Michael standing in front of me and that’s the story.”
Elizabeth, convinced that this wasn’t really her daughter, ran out of the room to the nearest phone and called the police. Erica, upon hearing her mother on the phone, looked at Michael, and when he nodded she sprinted out of the room. Erica skidded to a stop in front of the library door where her mother was. Elizabeth screamed, dropped the phone, and ran as fast as she could out of the room through a second door, away from the child who had replaced her daughter. She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Assuming she was safe for a few seconds, she slid down the door to sit on the floor. Exhausted, she glanced over to her vanity and saw two black eyes staring at her, cold as ice, from the mirror sitting there. Again she shrieked and yanked open the door. Erica stood there with a look on her face that made Elizabeth’s blood run cold. Erica held up the gun that would end her mother’s life forever and said,

“Michael knows best.”

Erica then shot her mother in the head and watched as she crumpled to the floor.

Minutes passed as Erica stared at her mother’s figure lying, distorted on the floor, blood pooling around her head.

“You did the right thing, Erica,” Michael said in an unemotional voice from the vanity mirror.

“I know, she would have meddled with our plans,” Erica answered in the same monotone.

The sirens blaring outside distracted Erica as the front door was kicked open. The police streamed in and she was spotted standing in the hall at the top of the stairs looking down at them, the gun still hot in her hand. She was taken by the police and placed in the squad car, all the while never even putting up a fight. The only thing she asked to take with her was her mother’s antique hand mirror.

No one knows what happened to little Erica Thompson, or her father, or Michael. What we do know is this, check your mirrors.

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vampiresrock said...
Nov. 22, 2010 at 10:49 am
WOW!!! that was great! kudos to you!!!!! :)
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