Three, I secretly believe they’re all true.
When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me stories about people who did stupid things, like go into places they didn’t belong, and got possessed. I think this was her way of keeping me from getting into trouble. So, I grew up terrified of the dark. To this day, I still am. So, why do I watch horror movies if I always wind up sleeping with the lights on? I have no idea. But I want to tell you guys about the mirrors.
The full truth of the matter is that I don’t know where the mirrors came from originally. I found them one sunny day over a year ago while walking with a friend and coming to a yard sale. I love yard sales, especially the ones with books. But my friend picked up a couple of lamps and I spotted the mirrors.
There were two of them. Enormous with beautiful wooden frames and a cool, woven design. And for the price the owners were asking them for, I couldn’t pass them up. The owners, a young couple with two kids, helped me drag them to the side for safe keeping until I could bring the car. We get to talking and she tells me that they’re moving to Alberta and they’re lightening their load. As someone who has moved across entire countries, I completely understood their logic.
What I should have asked next was where they got the mirrors.
But who does that? Who asks for a background check on yard sale items? I mean, it’s not like you can say, ‘omg! that’s gorgeous. where did you get that?’ because you want to get yourself one. Instead, I gathered up my items and brought them home.
For two weeks, the mirrors sat in the backroom. Both facing the wall (not entirely planned, just how they ended up when brought in). I didn’t have room for them, was the reason I kept giving myself every time I passed them. Ridiculous, because who buys things they don’t have room for? Hoarders, maybe. But if I’m honest with myself (and now you guys), they gave me the creeps. From the moment I brought them into the house, I couldn’t bring myself to go near them. Yes, yes, go ahead. Laugh. Absolutely cray cray. But here’s the thing.
Every good horror movie has mirrors, especially mirrors where — after the person has already walked away — the reflection remains, all twisted and demonic. But I have other mirrors. I have loads of other mirrors, not including the ones in the bathrooms. So, what the heck?!
I concluded that it was probably due to the fact that they weren’t ‘mine’. All other decorative mirrors in the house were store bought (except one that my sister in law gave me, which, by the way, no creeps, no chills, no weird vibes).
So, for a year, the mirrors were stored in the basement with a sheet over them and were forgotten.
Then we moved and the new house had enough walls to accommodate the orphaned mirrors. I placed them upstairs in the hallway. They fit perfectly, and look amazing. It was great. Part of me was even excited that I got to finally see them up. I ignored the unease in the pit of my stomach, that nagging little voice suggesting I just leave them on the curb for someone else to grab. I told myself I was being a mental case.
That first night, I didn’t sleep. I lay awake, staring at the bedroom door, once again debating the wisdom of leaving those mirrors up. After all, that was how about 90% of all possessions happened in the movies, right? Some idiot buys a cool mirror from a strange, shifty couple (usually elderly), and it ends up having sucked the soul of some murder victim, or serial killer who kills everyone in their sleep … Bloody Mary anyone? O_o Being an author with a wild imagination really sucks sometimes.
Clearly, as I sit here writing this, we can all agree that I survived the night. I woke up the next morning mortified by my previous night’s delusional thoughts, because, in the sunny light of day, they were merely a pair of mirrors (and nothing bad happens in the daytime! Everyone knows that).
The night I saw the shadowy figure, my dog lost her ever loving mind.
My office is at the very end of the upstairs hallway. The door is at my back — the door that leads into the hallway containing the mirrors. It was late, well after midnight. The children were sleeping and I was working on Blood Script. My German Shepherd lay on her bed in the corner of the room. The house was quiet and I was the only one awake, so you can imagine how high I jumped when my dog scrambled up as if someone lit her butt on fire. What was worse was that deep, vicious snarling barks dogs do that scare the crap out of us when we’re not expecting it. It was followed by her lunging out of the room after something. I spun in my chair, expecting it to be one of the kids up for water or the bathroom. Instead, I see a fleeing figure bolting out of sight. Okay, quick pause here to remind everyone I’m not insane.
But I jumped out of my chair and ran after it … my machete in hand.
I ran down the hall, slapping on every light I came across, calling out, ‘who’s there?’ Followed by the kids’ names. My dog is still going insane, running back and forth up and down the hall. I run to the kids’ rooms first. Everyone’s still in bed, but I know what I saw! So, with my dog in tow, I did a search of the house and found nothing. Well, safe to say not much sleep was had that night.
The next morning, I ask the kids if anyone had gotten out of bed the night before. They all say no. Once again, in the glow of the morning, I no longer believe I’d seen anything. It might have been the headlights on a passing car, or the dog’s shadow. Plus, I’d been staring at my monitor and my eyes had to adjust from the brightness. All logical and rational explanations. Things we tell ourselves to keep from going insane and burning the house to the ground.
Finally, as I’m bundling the kids up for school, 10yrold comes to me and says, ‘I think it was me. I think I had to go to the bathroom and the dog scared me so I ran back to bed.’ I asked her why she didn’t say anything when I was calling out. Her honest to god answer, ‘I don’t really remember getting up. I thought it was a dream.’
-_- well, hopefully next time, she’ll save me the heart attack and say something…
The upside here is that my house isn’t haunted. I feel that’s an important thing to be thankful for. I’m also relieved I’m not losing my mind. Another added bonus. I would also like to add that, since that incident, I have come to terms with the mirrors. I no longer feel weird when passing them. A happy ending, me thinks. 😉
Do you have a spooky story to tell?
A strange event you can’t explain?
I’d love to hear your story, so leave them in the comments below.
Now, for something a bit less terrifying, I’ve finished with Blood Script and have started the fun of returning to the Maxwell brothers. No, you did not read that wrong.
Magnus’ Defeat is 60K, and you guys will not believe what just happened.
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Casey Bond new cover reveal — Visit authorcaseybond.com to see the beauty that is Mayday.
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That’s it for this week. Again, don’t forget to leave your spooky story for me in the comments. I really want to read them, and I will see you shortly with more news!
Lots of love,