––––––––
One would think that, when faced with the real possibility that their home was haunted, things as trivial as homework and math tests would be dismissed for the time being. However, at casa del Piper, this was definitely not the case. Andrea Golden gave her daughter a disapproving look when Piper told her she hadn’t been able to complete her math homework. She ordered Piper to get started on it right away.
Part of her didn’t mind that her mom was on her case. Piper cherished these small moments when her mother was in-between restoration projects and had the time to cook a decent meal. She loved working on her homework at the kitchen table while her mother was preparing food nearby. In general, she loved having her mom nearby. She saw so little of her now, with her crazy work schedule and her countless personal projects. She missed her mom. It was moments like this that made up for all that.
But today, Piper couldn’t focus on the task at hand, and wasn’t able to savor the fact that she was spending some quality time with her mom. Her thoughts kept going back to the strange incidents today—the detached voice at the graveyard that had said “Don’t trust her,” and that strange Goth girl named Felicia who urged her to stop blaming herself and to stop feeling guilty. Oddly enough, Felicia’s advice sounded a lot like what Diane Spencer had told her. The mirror fed on the guilt of those who deemed themselves guilty. It had lured Abigail into its trap because the girl thought she was to blame for her cousin’s drowning.
All right, so Piper felt guilty over her father’s death. Was that guilt enough to trigger the mirror? What Abigail had done could be considered second-degree murder, which was very different from not helping her dad whose life was in danger. Granted, Abigail was suffering from a seizure back then, but maybe the mirror didn’t take that into account.
Piper blamed herself for not being able to heal her father. She’d dreamed every night that she would somehow find a miracle cure that could heal all illnesses, and would heal her father. He would be all right, and they would all be happy again.
Even though she had a faint suspicion of what triggered the illness, that didn’t help him. Knowing the cause of his phantom illness was miles away from curing it.
Piper had tried to forget the memory of that peculiar day, the day before her dad had gotten ill and her world was turned upside down. She had tried to forget because it couldn’t possibly have been real. And she had almost succeeded. When she thought about it now, all she got was a faint recollection of the events of that day, nowhere near the vivid, burning memory it was five years ago.
Her father had been working in his home office, like usual. He often brought home books from the library. Piper wasn’t sure if he just wanted to read them in his spare time, or if he had an ulterior motive for bringing them home. She used to enjoy sneaking into his office and surprising him by clasping her hands over his eyes and asking, “Who is it?” But that day, everything was different.
When she walked into his office, the aroma of mint tea, her dad’s favorite drink, didn’t greet her nor did she find her dad seated at his desk. Instead, he was standing near the fireplace, gazing into the licking flames. The room was barely lit, only a small desk lamp and the firelight breaking the darkness.
He was whispering something she couldn’t make out, so she stealthily walked closer, until she stood only several steps behind him, half hidden behind his desk.
The words weren’t English, that was for sure. Piper couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something ghastly about this entire scene. A feeling of dread crept into the pit of her stomach and stayed there obstinately.
Suddenly, the desk lamp flickered. For a moment, the room rested in pitch-black darkness except for the light from the fire. Piper let out a yelp.
Then the lights turned back on.
Her dad had turned to face her, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and shock. “Piper!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
Piper stared at him wide-eyed. Behind her father’s form, a large black mass expanded. The mist seemed to come out of the fireplace.
A coal-black hand made of mist lingered on her dad’s shoulder. He turned around, facing the eerie shape floating behind him.
Piper’s breath got caught in her throat. What the heck was that thing?
“You...” her father mumbled, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. She was expecting him to ask something along the lines of “what are you:; instead he continued, “You came.”
The person-shaped mist nodded. At least, Piper thought it was nodding. It slowly seemed to grow in density, becoming more and more solid and human-like with every passing minute. Except that it was still completely black, without any facial features: no mouth, no eyes, and no nose.
“Yessss,” the phantom replied, drawing on the S. It sounded like a snake. It also moved like a snake, slithering from behind her father to stand in front of him.
“You broke it,” the thing mused, looking from her father to the fireplace. “You broke the seal.”
“I did,” her dad replied cautiously. “I brought you here. I did what I had to do.”
“And now you will be rewarded,” the snake promised, venom dripping through its voice.
Piper had trouble classifying it. It moved and talked like a snake, but its shape was clearly human. It reminded her eerily of the snake in the Bible, the one that lured Eve into eating the apple in the Garden of Eden.
The phantom put its ghostly hand on her dad’s chest, while her dad looked at it questioningly. Then she heard her father scream as everything turned dark again. The desk lamp shattered this time—at least, she heard the sound of broken glass and assumed it was the lamp.
She cowered underneath the desk, clutching her hands to her ears. But she needn’t have bothered. Her dad had stopped screaming. Now all she heard in the darkness was silence. She didn’t know what was worse. If her father was screaming, at least that meant he was still there.
“Piper,” her dad’s voice suddenly spoke. Relief flooded over her like a tsunami.
“Dad?” she asked. She hated how faint her voice sounded.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to put on the lights,” he promised.
She could hear him trying to find his way through the darkness. He bumped into a few objects on his way to the light switch. Piper put her arms around her and hoped he’d put the lights on soon. She hated this darkness. It felt heavy, almost solid, its weight clearly palpable. It made her feel claustrophobic and disoriented.
She let out a sigh of relief when the lights popped on. Crawling from under the desk, she made her way to her dad, her eyes filled with worry.
“Dad, what was that?” she asked with fear in her voice.
Her dad paused for a second and looked at her curiously, as if he was trying to make up his mind about something.
“What was what?” he asked eventually, feigning as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
“That shape,” she explained. “What was that?”
The quietness between them made her feel uncomfortable. She felt the lie coming before he even spoke the words.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey,” her dad said eventually.
Actually hearing it, though, felt like a slap in the face. How could he think that she of all people wouldn’t be able to see through it?
“The lights just went out,” he explained matter-of-factly. “I hope you didn’t get too scared. Come on, let me make you a sandwich,” he suggested casually, as if the weirdest thing ever hadn’t just happened. But it had happened.
She let her dad escort her out of the room, but not without risking a glance at the fireplace.
He had thrown bones into the fire. Large bones. Too large to belong to an animal. While the fire roared all around them, the bones didn’t burn.
Now Piper shook her head warily, trying to get rid of the painful memories that tugged at her heart and made her feel devastated. That day had been more than five years ago. She had numbed down the most painful parts of that memory, like her dad lying to her, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.
When her dad kept insisting nothing happened that night except the lights shutting off, Piper began to believe she’d been hallucinating. After all, shadow figures made of mist didn’t exist.
But in light of recent events, she wondered if maybe she hadn’t imagined it after all. And maybe, if she’d faced her demons sooner and had told someone about this, then her dad would still be alive.
“You look a million miles away,” Andrea remarked, glancing at her daughter. “Is everything all right, Piper?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
Piper wanted to tell her mother everything. She wanted her mom to hold her, hug her, and tell her things would be all right, that they would leave this house and that damned mirror, and that they would start anew somewhere else. But she knew that wasn’t the answer she’d get. Her mother was practical and rational. She would rather send her daughter to yet another psychiatrist, the next in an already impressive line, than believe in the existence of ghosts.
“Do you know the people who lived her before we did?” Piper blurted out. “Just curious,” she added.
“Not really,” her mother replied, shaking her head. “I just met her once. Diane Spencer, a really nice lady. Intelligent as well. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Piper replied. “Just a random wave of curiosity.”
“What about if I make your favorite food?” Andrea suggested. “And I can help you with your homework afterward.”
“Sounds great,” Piper replied genuinely.
“You know, Joey called,” her mother continued as she dived into one of the kitchen cabinets, looking for a cooking pot. Not finding the pot in the cabinet, she walked over to the fridge. “Multiple times, actually. He said he ran into you at the graveyard...and that you seemed frightened of something.”
Piper sighed deeply. “I’m fine, Mom. Just, you know, stuff. I haven’t been able to sleep well.”
Her mom extended an arm and pulled her close. “I know, Piper. I understand. Joey was just being worried. Maybe you should call him back? It’s actually very nice of him to be so worried about you, don’t you think?” She put down a package of tomatoes she had grabbed from the fridge and smiled reassuringly.
“Why should he worry about me?” Piper asked matter-of-factly. “He’s Alison’s boyfriend, not mine.”
“Was,” her mother replied. “He was Alison’s boyfriend. Anyway,” her mother continued, ducking her head into another cabinet in search of her cooking pot, “give him a call. He sounded worried. Aha,” she added, as she found the cooking pot she’d been looking for.
“Mom... Did...did Ms. Spencer tell you something? About this house?” Piper asked.
Andrea raised her eyebrows as she put the pot on the stove and began her cooking. She wasn’t exactly the best cook in the world, but she could prepare spaghetti in a way that would put most Italians to shame. She had volunteered as a chef once in a local Italian restaurant and the customers had been more than pleased with her dishes. However, her cooking skills began and ended with Italian cuisine. She couldn’t prepare goulash or stew if her life depended on it.
“Not really,” she replied eventually, struggling with the stove. “She did say that it had been in their family for a while, when I asked about it. That’s all. Why all these questions?”
“No reason,” Piper lied again. “She didn’t say anything about the mirror, now, did she?”
“What mirror? Piper, what are you talking about?”
“I went to see her today,” Piper blurted out. She could hit herself over the head. Why did she have to be so goddamned honest all the time? It was getting her into more trouble than honesty was worth. “She told me the mirror, the one I found, is haunted.”
“Piper, why would you go see Ms. Spencer?” Andrea asked, slightly agitated. Her excellent cooking skills diminished with every question her daughter asked, and she was still struggling with bringing the stove to the right temperature. “And why would that mirror be haunted?”
“Her sister,” Piper explained. “Abigail Spencer. She died here.”
“Well, that’s sad, sweetheart, but people die every day.” It was obvious that Andrea didn’t want to discuss this with her daughter, who was clearly making a fuss out of something she shouldn’t.
“She died in our house, Mom. They ruled it suicide, but Ms. Spencer...she said it wasn’t. She said that something, the mirror, killed Abigail.”
“Oh sweetie,” Andrea replied, an endearment she only fell back on when she thought Piper had said something totally childish, “it was probably hard to accept that her sister committed suicide, so Ms. Spencer did what she had to. She invented a story so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by grief. It’s sad, but it happens.”
Her mother’s tone was condescending. In normal circumstances, this would have angered Piper tremendously, but now she couldn’t feel angry. Because her mother had addressed a point she had previously overlooked. It would only be natural for Ms. Spencer to feel guilty over her sister’s death. Perhaps not as guilty as Abigail felt at her cousin’s death, but guilty all the same. So why did the mirror not prey on her? Why did the mirror slumber for all these years, only to awaken now? Maybe the key wasn’t grief or guilt. Maybe the key to why the mirror was after Piper and not Ms. Spencer was something else altogether.
Whatever the key was to solving this mystery, she had to find it and fast. Because the clock was ticking, and Piper was running out of time.
***
The attic could hold an important clue to solving the mystery. At least, that had been Piper’s logic when she decided to search there. It was stuffed with boxes upon boxes hopefully filled with the tools to unravel the secrets of Abigail Spencer’s past forever.
Piper had encountered those boxes before, when she went up to the attic three days ago–had it only been three days? It seemed like a lifetime since she’d discovered the mirror. She had shot a quick glance at them, but hadn’t bothered to look at what was inside. Now she had to. She had to find out what was going on.
With the sun setting half an hour ago, the attic was veiled in complete darkness. Piper felt the ghastly tension in the atmosphere almost as soon as she set foot in the attic room. There was a palpable sense of foreboding lingering in the air. But she couldn’t back down now. Somewhere in those boxes were the answers to her questions.
Armed with a flashlight in case the lonely lightbulb decided to pass out on her, she grabbed box after box and studied its contents. Some of them held century-old dolls, curious and slightly scary, but of no help to her. Others held photographs. Some of those she recognized as Abigail Spencer from the picture Diane had shown her earlier today. Abigail had truly been a beautiful young woman. She had long black hair that looked like silk, a well-formed mouth, and the most gorgeous eyes. The same eyes her sister had, piercingly blue.
One of the pictures showed what should have been a happy family portrait. Abigail and Diane stood in front of their parents outside the house. Diane was smiling pleasantly at the camera, and Abigail was grinning. The resemblance between the two sisters was remarkable. Piper smiled sadly at the family photograph. A family ripped to shreds.
She was about to put the picture back in the box when she noticed something. Blinking her eyes, she held the picture close up in front of her nose, trying to figure out if what she saw was a trick of the light. It wasn’t.
Behind Abigail Spencer was a faint black shape. It was so faint that she hadn’t noticed it before, but it was there. The more she looked at the shape, the more prominent it became.
The black mass was expanding. At first, it only appeared behind Abigail Spencer, in a humanlike shape. Then it expanded fast, until it touched Abigail Spencer’s parents...and finally, Diane. It enlarged rapidly to the point where Piper was holding the photograph with her fingers.
Piper dropped the photograph on top of the pile of others she’d grabbed from the memory box. As she stared at the other pictures, she started screaming.
All the pictures were now pitch-black. Where previously images of Abigail and her family had been, there was now nothing but darkness, emptiness. Death.
***
Piper used to be as skeptical and rational as her mother, preferring logic above superstition. But she wasn’t that person anymore. Even in this short period of time, only three days, she had changed. She’d become a different person.
Piper pondered about that as she sat at the kitchen table, as far away from that cursed mirror as she could get. She’d begun to believe a haunting might not be the problem after all. From her knowledge of ghosts from horror movies, spirits bound to an object could only haunt through that object. They wouldn’t be capable of pulling that little stunt she’d just seen in the attic. Moreover, they wouldn’t have been able to follow her all the way to the graveyard or to the parking lot outside school. Unless this was some poltergeist thing and the spirit’s power grew the more people believed in it. Well, Piper certainly was a believer.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on, something she was missing. Something she had overlooked.
But what?
The contents of the box she grabbed from the attic room–she was not going up there again, at least not tonight–offered little use. They held Abigail and Diane’s diaries, but they were a lot like the diaries of any average teenaged girl. There was some gossip about boys and crushes, some complaining about other girls behaving like they ruled the world, and the mention of some inside jokes they shared with friends.
Even Abigail’s diary entries dating from the time after her cousin drowned weren’t out of the ordinary. She talked about feeling guilty for what happened to her cousin Shea, but as her psychiatrist had suggested–funny that she too had to go through countless counseling sessions, much in the same fashion as Piper had–it wasn’t her fault, and Abigail had begun to believe that as well. She admitted to her diary that she still saw herself as being guilty, but only guilty of being unable to help. Never did she mention that she intentionally failed to help, or that she felt as if she had.
Further, the diary spoke about the family’s move to their new home. Abigail was excited to move. She loved the new house. She thought it looked glorious and magnificent and was excited to live there.
Then, in one entry, she mentioned the mirror. They had found it in the attic of her new home, sealed away under countless boxes, and Abigail had begged her parents to be allowed to keep it. They had agreed, although Diane had expressed a particular distaste for the thing. Abigail pondered about why Diane would have been so passionate about her dismay over the mirror.
The next couple of diary entries didn’t mention anything peculiar. Abigail wrote about school, friends, and parties. But suddenly something changed. It seemed like pages had been torn out of the diary. Not in a careful, delicate way one would do to hide their secrets in a place even more secure than a diary; instead they had been torn out forcefully, angrily.
The last couple of pages, however, remained intact.
Piper almost dropped the diary at reading their contents.
MURDERER MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER. MURDERER.
***
Piper turned on all the lights before she entered her bedroom. Not that it helped. She still trembled like a leaf in the wind when she entered the room that had once been her sanctuary.
She was done playing games, or so she’d decided while she was still downstairs in the safe and warm kitchen, with her mother nearby working in her home office. But now that she was alone on the second floor, with a mirror hosting an evil spirit, she didn’t feel all that certain anymore.
“It’s going to be you or me,” she mumbled softly. “And I have the feeling it’s not going to be me.”
Because after all, what could a mirror possessed by an evil spirit really do if someone were to yank it from the wall and throw it on the floor, shattering the glass? If that proved to be insufficient, she could do more. Stamp on it, attack it with any sort of weapon, throw it out of the window. It wasn’t like mirrors were unbreakable, and she was angry and scared enough to try all of those methods.
She had tried to stay calm, but after reading five pages filled with the word MURDERER in a red color she wasn’t entirely convinced was the result of using a red marker—although she had no expertise in that department—she was fed up. She was done playing detective and pretending like everything was fine. She couldn’t. Not anymore.
The threat was now larger than a dark figure visiting her in the dead of night or Alison disappearing for ten minutes. Someone had written that word over and over again in Abigail’s diary. Maybe even in blood. It was obvious that the mirror’s powers were far greater than Piper had assumed at first. Abigail was its first victim, and Piper wasn’t about to be its second.
If this were one of those horror movies, there would be scary, foreboding music playing in the background. In real life, there was no sound except for cars outside and the whistling of leaves in the wind.
Piper knew that if she hesitated, she wouldn’t dare to continue with this kamikaze course of action. It was just as possible that the mirror was the only thing holding the spirit back, and that breaking it would set all hell loose. Maybe it was a bit far-fetched, but with ghosts, one never knew. They obeyed their own special set of rules.
Piper took a deep breath and charged the mirror at full speed. She grabbed the corners of the wicked thing and lifted it up in one fluent motion. Then she turned around and threw it on the floor. She jumped on it violently, repeatedly, until she could no longer hear the glass shatter.
She breathed heavily as she looked at the results of her fury. The mirror, which had once been beautiful and crafted with an astonishing eye for detail, looked like Hurricane Katrina had paid it a visit. The glass was shattered in over a hundred pieces, the frame was bent in places where it shouldn’t have been, and it looked more like a replica from the fairytale of the Snow Queen than it did like a real antique mirror.
Piper laughed. She couldn’t help it. All the stress and worry of the last couple of days disappeared and she couldn’t help but laugh. She had destroyed the mirror by simply smashing it on the floor. If she had known it would be that easy, she wouldn’t even have worried in the first place. Relief flooded over her, and it was almost as comforting as knowing that she was now finally safe. Safe in her own home, the way she should be.
She let herself drop on her bed and grabbed her cell phone, a smile reaching from ear to ear.
Alison didn’t pick up, but she might still be at the hairdresser’s. It was still early in the evening, after all.
She dialed Marcy’s number next.
“What’s up, girl?” Marcy asked as she picked up. She sounded happy, almost as happy as Piper felt.
“I’m great, Marcy,” Piper replied. “Say, you don’t have any plans for tonight, do you?”
***
Although it was only a Wednesday night, the arcade was crowded with teenagers ranging from fifteen to eighteen. It was the place-to-be for those who wanted to hang out after school without bumping into parents, police officers, or anything of the like. They didn’t serve alcohol to minors, but they had great alcohol-free cocktails that tasted delicious.
The arcade was located on a remote hill on the outskirts of town. Driving there was easy, but if one were too young to drive, climbing the hill by bike was pure hell. Piper and her friends had done this countless times back when they were still fifteen and drivers’ licenses seemed a million years away. But it was worth it.
Looking at the arcade’s building reminded Piper of the sixties. Although she’d never lived through those years herself, she had heard about them from her mother, and had seen a lot of ‘60s movies on television. In those days, arcades like this one were extremely popular. With its vibrant, neon-light colors and awkward video-game-like music, this particular arcade stood like a silent memorial to the glory days long gone.
“Sorry we kept you waiting,” Marcy apologized as she got out of her car. “Kristina here was still busy trying to look at least halfway decent.”
Kristina, who had gotten out of the car as well, rolled her eyes. “I was fixing my makeup, something you might consider, Marce.” She smiled widely at Piper and pulled her into a hug. “Oh, girlfriend, I’ve missed you,” she exclaimed. “Sorry you couldn’t come with us to the movies yesterday,” she told Piper. “The new Harry Potter movie? Absolutely amazing. My favorite of the entire series,” she continued.
Piper hadn’t felt in the mood to go to the cinema. Nevertheless, she did feel a pang of regret now that her friend mentioned it.
“I’m a big fan of Voldemort,” Kristina added. “Evil and nasty, but with the right sense of humor. But I was totally swooning over Daniel Radcliffe. And yes, I can get away with that. You two, on the other hand, can’t. It would totally ruin your reputation.”
“That’s all right,” Piper said, as the trio began walking toward the entrance of the arcade. “It looks pretty crowded tonight,” she remarked.
“It’s only the second month of school,” Marcy commented. “Not a lot of work to do. Not every teacher is as crazy as Mrs. Wilcox to give people a math test right away.”
“Like you have something to complain about,” Kristina countered. “You got yet another A-plus. You should actually feel sorry for the ugly ducklings among us who failed that particular test.” She pointed demonstratively at herself and at Piper.
“Well, in any case, I thought it was stupid,” Marcy said. She pushed the door to the arcade open, and held it open as Kristina and Piper walked in.
As Piper suspected, the arcade was crowded up to the point that they had to push to just get in the door. It seemed like all the teenagers had decided to come out and party tonight.
“What’s curfew, by the way?” Kristina asked Marcy.
“It’s a school night,” Marcy replied, “meaning ten o’clock. Don’t pout. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
“Pfft,” Kristina pouted anyway. “I’ll go get us some drinks. Virgin daiquiris, ladies?”
The question was rhetorical, because they all knew the answer anyway, and Kristina was already walking away when she asked it.
“So,” Marcy said as she and Piper sat down on one of the retro-style couches positioned all over the arcade, “for real, now. How are you doing? You haven’t called me since Monday, after we went shopping. I know when something is up with you.”
“I’m all right,” Piper said, and she meant it. “I had some trouble,” she explained, trying to keep things vague so she wouldn’t unsettle Marcy or cause her to think Piper was crazy. “But I solved it now. I’m back in happy la-la land.”
“Good to hear,” Marcy agreed, but her eyes looked suspicious.
It was obvious that she knew Piper was hiding something, but she was too good of a friend to keep urging her to spill her secret. Piper had to hide a smile as she looked at her friend. In their little group, everyone considered Marcy a nerd (which they said in a loving and teasing way rather than as an actual insult) but hardly anyone paid attention to the fact that Marcy was reliable, trustworthy, and a good judge of character as well. She knew instantly whenever something was wrong with one of them, and Piper wished she too had that built-in alarm system.
“Ladies, cocktails,” Kristina said cheerfully as she presented each of them with a drink that ranged between orange and pink. “And guess who I came across when I was getting us drinks,” she challenged as she sat down between them.
“No clue,” Piper answered, taking a sip from her drink. “Who?”
“Only half of the football team.” Kristina winked and looked at her friends with a meaningful smile. “Glen, Benjamin, Ricky, and...Joey,” she added, smirking at Piper, as if that would have any significance for her.
Piper raised her eyebrows and was about to make some nasty comment that she wouldn’t steal Alison’s boyfriend, when Marcy intervened. “Kristina,” was all she said, but it was enough to make her shut up and look at Piper with a sad expression.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that...I didn’t know you still...”
“Don’t, it’s all right,” Piper said, although it wasn’t.
Kristina had basically accused her of being interested in Alison’s boyfriend. Of course, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Kristina wasn’t a big fan of the “loyalty in relationships” motto, but that still didn’t mean that she should act like this.
“Let’s say hey to them,” Marcy said, trying to change the subject. “After all, we do take most of the same classes, and I was in kindergarten with half of them.”
“All right,” Kristina agreed. She got up enthusiastically and shot Piper one of her brilliant smiles that screamed forgive me because I did something totally stupid.
Piper couldn’t help but smile back. She was in too good of a mood, with the mirror destroyed and all her problems gone, to stay mad at anyone, let alone her friends.
They walked over to the group of football players. Like in every high school, football players instantly belonged to the popular crowd. Although at least two of them–Ricky and Benjamin, to be precise–used that to their utmost advantage by gaining admittance to all the popular parties filled with college students and women at least three years’ their senior, Glen and Joey behaved like nothing of the kind.
Even if Piper thought Joey was being a total idiot in the way he treated Alison, he’d always been a nice and caring person, admired by everyone and genuinely liked by more than half of the school’s population. He was always ready to assist someone in need of help, or to make small talk with the younger football players.
Piper realized that was something she admired about him. She nearly froze at the spot. Why should she admire something–anything–about Joey? They weren’t even friends, technically, more like acquaintances. He was Alison’s boyfriend, and that was the only connection they shared. Granted, they had worked together in third grade on a project to help people suffering from cancer. Joey had confided in her and told her that the reason why he did it was because his mom had suffered from cancer as well. Chemotherapy had been effective in her case, and she had recovered.
At the time, Piper’s father was suffering from his illness, which was the main reason why she participated in the project as well, and they had bonded over the fact that both of them had an ill parent. Then Piper’s father died.
She pushed everyone away, but there was no one she pushed away in the same way as she shoved Joey out of her life. Not because he didn’t care, or because he didn’t want to be there for her. She pushed him away because his mom was still alive and her dad was dead.
What good was a God who decided who lived and who died so randomly?
In a matter of weeks, Piper lost her faith and more than half of her friends. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to be there for her; it was that she wouldn’t let them. Why was she thinking about this now? About lost chances, and one of those losses being friends with Joey?
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the dark and unsettling thoughts, and put on her brightest smile as she said hello to the boys. Ricky and Benjamin mumbled hello back. They looked like they’d rather be anywhere else, like they were bored out of their minds. Glen kindly said hello to her, and then he turned to Marcy and ruffled her hair in a big-brother-like gesture. Glen and Marcy were family, cousins to be exact, but they had always behaved more like best friends or brother and sister.
Joey smiled at Piper. “I’m glad to see you here,” he remarked, and there was something in his voice she couldn’t quite make out.
Piper smiled back. “Glad to be here. It’s pretty crowded today, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, care to tell me why you practically ran away from me this afternoon at the cemetery?”
The question startled her. “Umm...graveyards scare me?” she tried, but it was obvious she was lying. “No, I...well, what I was doing there was a little bit crazy,” she confessed, wondering why in the world she decided to tell him the truth. “Earlier today I went to visit a person who previously inhabited my house. Apparently her sister, Abigail, killed herself in my house like fifty-something years ago. So I went to the graveyard to visit Abigail’s grave and I thought that if I told you, you would think I was crazy.”
“Why would I think that?” Joey asked rhetorically. “Just because you want to do some research on your house, and who inhabited it before you did, you’re not crazy. If I were living in a house as ancient as yours, I’d go all detective as well. But she...killed herself, you said? Sounds pretty gruesome. Aren’t you scared?”
Piper had to suppress a laugh. Spot-on, Joey, she thought. She had been scared. Oh boy, had she been terrified. But that was in the past now. She had destroyed the mirror, and all was back to normal.
“I was, but I’m getting used to the idea.”
“Listen, Piper,” Joey began, and his expression turned serious. “I wanted to tell you that...I’m sorry for what happened. I really am. I wish things had gone differently. But I’m not sorry for what I did. And neither should you be.”
Piper was about to ask what he was talking about, when her phone went off. Alison, the screen said.
“Just a second,” Piper excused herself, as she quickly made her way through the crowd and tried to get outside of the arcade so she could at least hear Alison talk.
“Al?” Piper asked as she pushed the button. “I’ve been calling you all night. Where were you?”
“Hold your horses, P.,” the voice on the other side of the line said jokingly. “After I returned from the hairdresser, I came home to find my grandmother there. Making goulash...”
Piper knew how this story would end. Alison’s grandmother was originally from the Ukraine. She was a nice and loving lady, but she made the most terrible goulash in the entire world, making Piper’s mom look like a kitchen princess. Whenever Inga made goulash, Alison’s entire family was ill with stomach cramps. Piper had dinner with them once when Inga was around, and she felt like she was dying inside after eating the notorious dish.
“Oh no,” Piper exclaimed. “How bad is it?”
“Terrible,” Alison confessed. “My mom has already called the doctor, and started raging about how Grandma is poisoning all of us. Grandma on the other hand claimed that at least we would never die from food poisoning. It was hilarious and devastatingly painful at the same time. I feel like my insides are on fire. But enough about me,” she continued, clearly biting away the pain. “What about you? Found anything yet?”
“I destroyed it,” Piper answered, and even now she couldn’t help but smile. “I grabbed it from the wall and smashed it into a bazillion pieces.”
“You did?” Alison didn’t sound too happy. “And...you know, nothing came out of it?” she voiced her worry.
“Nope,” Piper replied, shaking her head. “It just broke. End of story. I’m so glad all of this is done, Al. You have no clue how happy I am.”
“Me too,” Alison said, sighing. “But I have a strange feeling that this might not be over yet. Are you sure it’s broken?”
“Positive.”
“Well then, it’s probably just my imagination. Are you at home now?”
“Nope, I’m at the arcade with Marcy and Kristina.” Piper paused for a second and added, “Joey is here. If you want to come...”
“I look and feel like I’m being turned inside-out,” Alison remarked. “Definitely not a good plan. Besides, he doesn’t want to see me. I tried, P., but he won’t listen to me. He ignores my calls half of the time, and if he does talk to me, he’s always angry.”
“Why is he acting this way?” Piper asked, more to herself than to Alison, who obviously didn’t know the answer as well.
“I don’t know,” Alison said. “But, you know, go inside, and have fun. You don’t have to sulk just because I’m being tortured by Ukrainian goulash for the hundredth time.”
“All right then,” Piper agreed. “Will you be able to go to school tomorrow?”
“Negative,” Alison replied. “I’m staying home for the day. Take notes for me, will you?”
“Of course. Bye, Al.”
“See you, P.”
After ending the call, Piper looked up at the arcade. She heard the joyous laughter of her peers and the beat of the music. This was definitely better than solving century-old mysteries and tracking down the origins of haunted mirrors.
Suddenly, she had a sense of déjà-vu as she regarded the bench she was standing next to. Blinking a couple of times, she thought she’d almost seen something, a glimpse of the past, but it was gone. Nevertheless, a stubborn thought nagged at her memory. There was something about this place, this little bench, across the parking lot from the arcade.
It didn’t feel like something ghastly related to Abigail or the haunted mirror at all. It felt like...like she was missing something. A memory. As if something had happened here, at this exact spot, and she had forgotten all about it. That couldn’t be true. She didn’t even know this bench existed to begin with. And if she did, she certainly had never paid attention to it.
An eerie feeling took control of her, and Piper shivered. She felt as if she should remember something, something significant, something important, but she didn’t.
Instead, she ran back into the arcade, into safety.
***
The rest of the night was amazing. She did some crazy dancing with Kristina, who was practically the queen of crazy-dancing-moves. Marcy told her the latest gossip about Melissa Pine, the girl who pretended like she ruled the school, and her possible lesbian relationship with her BFF, Clare Evergreen. There was probably no truth to their supposed relationship, but it was always fun to gossip about the high and mighty.
The music slowed down, and Kristina told Piper she’d get another drink for the both of them, leaving her alone on the dance floor while Marcy talked amicably to Glen.
“Hey Piper,” a voice behind her said, “would you like to dance?”
Of course, it was Joey who’d asked her to dance. She didn’t even need to turn around to know that.
She debated for a moment whether she should dance with him or not, but decided that it couldn’t hurt. After all, it was just dancing. What harm could come from it?
“Sure,” Piper consented. The moment she said it, she already regretted it. Joey smiled at her, and his smile made her heart skip a beat.
He was handsome, in the typical boy-next-door way. Curly, short brown hair and intoxicating green eyes. When he took a step forward and circled his arms around her waist, Piper’s skin tingled under his touch.
She hesitated for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. Even though they were standing close–too close–she tried to keep her distance.
“Is everything all right?” Joey asked worriedly.
He was a head taller than she was, and Piper looked up at him to reply. When her eyes met his, she forgot what she was going to say. He looked so breathtakingly gorgeous, his eyes shining brightly, his skin practically glowing in the neon light of the arcade.
“Joey,” Piper breathed.
He leaned down, and for a moment Piper was convinced that he’d kiss her. She could already imagine how it would feel, his full lips on hers, her skin burning from his touch.
Suddenly, someone yanked her arm.
The spell was broken. Warily, Piper turned around to face Kristina, who impatiently held up a drink in front of her nose.
“I brought you something,” she said, giving Piper a meaningful glance that said told you so.
“Oh, thanks,” Piper said. Then she realized she was still holding on to Joey. Reluctantly, she took a step back and broke free from his grip.
What had she almost done? She’d almost kissed Joey. Guilt flooded over her. She couldn’t even look at Joey anymore now. Why had he even tried to kiss her?
“I’m leaving,” Piper stated all of a sudden. She handed Kristina her drink. “I’m sorry,” she added, before she hurried out of the arcade, and away from her guilt.
***
Piper felt conflicted when she unlocked the front door of her house. It was a quarter past ten–thank God her mom wasn’t such an advocate for curfew as Marcy’s parents were–and it was already dark out, but like in the good old days, shadows and darkness didn’t bother Piper.
After she’d left the arcade, she walked all the way back home. She didn’t feel like bothering Marcy to ask her to drive her home, and besides, the walk helped clear her head.
Her thoughts went back to Joey. When they’d danced, it had made her heart do weird things in her chest. She had wanted him to kiss her.
She wasn’t allowed to feel something for Joey, not even when he looked at her with those gorgeous green eyes of his. He was Alison’s boyfriend. And she was not Kristina.
Besides, Joey was a chicken. According to Alison, he hadn’t even bothered to call her to tell her he wanted to break up with her. He hadn’t even taken the time to send her a text message or an email. He just ignored her. And Piper wouldn’t want to be with somebody who acted like that, no matter how good-looking or funny they were.
“Mom?” Piper yelled as she walked into the house. “I’m home!”
She was greeted by absolute silence. Raising her eyebrows, Piper searched for the light switch. Although she wasn’t scared in her own home anymore, she did feel safer with the lights on.
“Mom?” she asked again as she walked into the kitchen. It was then that she noticed the note on the kitchen table.
Had some work to finish. I’ll be back at eleven.
Piper sighed. Typical. Why would she even care about being home at a decent hour if her mom was always gone?
She took her high heels off and put on a pair of slippers. High heels were nice and all, but after a couple of hours, her feet hurt like hell. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table and walked upstairs.
Piper opened the door to her bedroom and walked in casually. She switched on the light, and put her bag down on her desk. She was about to sit down behind her desk and read a bit in her copy of Jane Eyre, a book they had to read for literature class, when something caught her eye.
There, on the other side of the room, hung the mirror, precisely as it had been before. Untouched. In one piece. Like she hadn’t ever grabbed the cursed thing, thrown it on the floor and crushed it. Like she hadn’t spent half an hour sweeping up the broken glass and throwing it in the trash.
Piper froze on the spot. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The mirror was completely intact, and it looked as threatening as ever. There was no scratch anywhere; the frame was just as it had looked when her mother had polished it three days ago.
She could see her own reflection in the mirror. She looked terrified, her skin pale, her eyes wide in fear. What was even scarier than the mirror returning magically to its original state was what she noticed looming behind her.
Behind her was a dark shape, a shadowy figure. The same figure she had seen in Abigail’s photographs. Now it was after her.