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Trapped in a Mirror

Horror story

By Ada ZubaPublished about a year ago 8 min read
1
Trapped in a Mirror
Photo by Stephany Lorena on Unsplash

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. At first glance I was sure it was me. But the longer I stared, the more the image changed and shifted, I could not believe it, I closed my eyes and opened them to stare at myself.

“It’s hard to tell with the mirror cracked up like that,” said a voice behind me.

I whirled around and came face to face with a small little girl wearing overalls, and a red shirt underneath them. The girl was around my age except that she wore large glasses that were too big for her face.

“Who are you?” I asked her.

“They call me Becky,” she said. “Who are you?” she asked me as she put her hands in her pockets.

“I am Gizelle,” I answered her. “Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Me? I live here,” she replied and she pulled out a yo-yo from her pocket and she let it bounce to the floor and it came back to her hand.

“I should go back downstairs to my parents, it’s dinner time, do you want to join us?” I asked her.

“No!” she screamed. “No!” she said aggressively. I nodded and lifted up the attic door and climbed down.

“I’ll visit tomorrow, I promise,” I told her and I took the ladder down to our main floor. The trap door then snapped behind me with a thud.

“Oh honey! What were you doing up there all by yourself?” asked my mom.

“Just playing with a new friend,” I told her and my mom smiled sweetly.

“Oh and what is this new friend’s name?” asked mom.

“Her name is Becky,” I answered as we both made our way to the dining room table.

“What’s going on squirt?” asked dad.

“Gizelle made a new friend named Becky today, she lives in the attic,” said mom proudly.

“Oh and how old is this friend of yours?” asked dad.

“She’s about my age and she has a yo-yo!” I said excitedly.

“Wow! Just imagine once you are in school how many friends you’ll have!” said dad with a light laugh.

“Hey, Gizelle why not after dinner, you invite your friend to play charades with us hmm?” said mom with her eyebrows raised.

“Okay!” I said and I ate my pasta quickly. I ran to the attic and I looked around, but Becky was gone. She was not there anymore. I looked in the cracked mirror where I found her before and she was not there either. I went back down.

“Oh honey, she was probably tired,” said Mom and chances were she must have been because otherwise she would be there.

“That’s okay, maybe next time,” said Dad.

I thought that would be best, she was probably really shy and did not want to play. So, it was just the three of us and I laughed through the night until it was bedtime. Dad read me a story and then, I turned off the lights. Night time is a scary time, I woke up thinking there was a monster under my bed, my toes were close to me. I could hear a creak of the floorboards, maybe it was just dad getting a glass of water? It could be mom getting her bed time pills? Another creak, this time it was lighter than the last. I hid under my covers and did not move. I held my breath careful not to give myself away to whatever was out there. Another creak came to my door. I could see nothing underneath the door, not a shadow or a light. I held onto my covers even tighter. I heard the turning of my doorknob. I wanted to scream, but I stayed under my covers holding my breath, waiting for it to go away.

“Come play with me,” said the familiar voice of my new friend.

I came out from the covers. “I wanted to play with you earlier and now it’s sleep time,” I told her.

“I did not want to play with grown-ups!” she said as she glared at me. “Grown-ups are evil,” she told me.

“Not mine, my parents are really nice!” I argued.

“No, they will lock you up and put you away!” she told me.

“Oh no, look at my room,” I told her and she looked around. “You have nice things!” she said as she came over to my bed. “You should play with me!” argued the girl.

“No, I will come tomorrow to the attic by myself,” I said. I rolled over to show her that I wanted to sleep, and she ripped off the covers.

“I want to play now!” she shrieked. I got out of bed, I did not like it when someone yelled at me.

“Why are you like this?” I asked her and she smiled, but it was not a warm smile like when dad or mom smile at me. It was…evil looking.

“Okay, will you be nice?” I asked her.

“I will, come on!” she shouted and I followed her into the living room, we sat down and she pulled out her yo-yo and played with it, I watched as she swung it back and forth and made it roll, and she swung it back and forth, then she would mumble something under her breath and she swung it back and forth.

I did not remember falling asleep, I woke up, I was on the carpet, the carpet was not white though, had it been dyed to red? No, because over there in the corner was a bit of white left. I got up and looked around, there was a yo-yo in my hand, but it was covered in a red liquid, it looked like blood. I threw the yo-yo, but it came back into my hand. I took the string off my finger and then threw it again, my hands were drenched in blood. I screamed. I screamed so loud that I was afraid the windows would break. I screamed and screamed. Mom or dad never came out of their room. I screamed and wailed until my voice hurt. I kept screaming no one came. I ran into the bathroom and washed my hands as I screamed. I heard the door come tumbling down and a police woman was kneeling beside me.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” she asked me.

“There’s blood, there’s blood, there’s blood everywhere!” I stammered barely getting the words out.

“Okay, let’s clean this up and we will call your parents,” she said kindly.

“There’s so much blood,” I said.

“Diana?!” asked another police officer.

“Yeah, we are in here!” she shouted. The male officer came into the doorway.

“Diana, her parents…” he trailed off and he took Diana around the corner.

There was so much blood. So much of it. I could feel my stomach churning and I puked on the floor.

“Hey honey, let’s clean this up,” Diana said nicely as she appeared in the doorway.

“Okay, I am going to take you with us okay?” said Diana gently.

“So much blood,” is all I could see and repeat. Before I knew it, I was in the backseat staring at my hands. There's so much blood.

Next, I was sitting in a room all by myself. Where were my parents? I sat there for a really long time until someone came in.

“Hi I am Tom, I am going to ask you a few questions. Is that okay?” said the officer.

“Yeah, but where’s Diana? she was nice,” I told him.

“Okay, can you tell me your name?”

“Gizelle,” I told him.

“Gizelle, that's a very pretty name,” said the officer. I nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened last night?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was sleeping and then my friend came into the room and-

“What’s your friend’s name?” he asked me.

“Becky.”

“Okay, then what happened?”

“I told her I wanted to sleep, and to leave me alone, she said I had to play with her, so we went into the living room and she played with her yo-yo and then I woke up,” I told him.

“Okay, Gizelle is Becky here with us?”

“No, she’s probably back at the house,” I said.

“Was this a sleepover?”

“No.”

“Where did you meet Becky?” asked the officer.

“She was in my attic, she thinks adults are evil,” I said to him thinking this was important.

“Gizelle, do you lie a lot to your parents?”

“No, I was told to not tell lies, where are my parents? Why haven’t they come?” I asked him. “Can I see them now? I miss them,” I said struggling to get the words out and I was choking, I missed my mom I wanted to hug her.

“Okay, I am going to introduce you to someone, do you remember Diana?” he asked me and I nodded, wiping my tears away. Diana came into the room, hey Gizelle, I need to tell you something about your parents,” she said gently. “There was a horrible accident Gizelle and your parents are dead,” she said slowly.

“What? You’re lying! You’re lying!” I shouted.

“Gizelle, do you remember what happened when you woke up today?”

“It was Becky! Becky killed them! She killed my parents!” I shouted.

“Where is Becky?” asked Diana.

“She’s in my house, in the attic,” I told her through my tears.

“Poor thing, terrified out of her mind,” Diana said.

“You don’t think she killed them do you?” asked Randy.

“I think we need to do a psych analysis, she probably has no idea,” said Craig.

“Wait… what year did that girl Rebecca go missing?” asked Diana suddenly.

“What rebecca?”

“You know The Rebecca,” said Diana.

“Oh the Glenson girl? Poor girl,” said Criag. Diana left the room in a hurry. She brought back a file and sure enough there was the girl, she was small for her age, wearing baggy overalls and a stained red shirt, with glasses that were too large for her face. Same address as the girl who was sitting in that room. Missing in 1994. Diana came into the room with the photo of Rebecca Glenson.

“Hey Gizelle, do you recognize her?” asked Diana.

“Yes, that’s Becky, she’s the one that- that lives in my attic,” said Gizelle as she stumbled through her words and crying.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

slasherpsychological
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About the Creator

Ada Zuba

Hello fellow interweb explorers! I am Ada Zuba. I binge the Netflix shows and just recently Disney plus has been my happy place. I am a creative person with a big love for Disney movies. I hope to one day write and publish a fantasy novel.

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