Cathrine's Mirror

In 1923 Britain. Twelve-year-old Cathrine slept until her father carried her out of bed. The heat of her fever made her unable to open her eyes.

“I can’t open the door!” Her mother cried.”

“The back door!” father yelled.

“Please, stay, I insist,” said a woman Cathrine didn’t know.

She heard objects slide across the floor and a bang. Her mother and older sister, Florence, let out a horrified scream.

She opened her eyes. Furniture floated around an elegant lady in a fifteen-century white dress and long black hair.

“Bloody Mary?”

Her fever took her, and she fell back asleep.

A week prior to Bloody Mary’s arrival, Cathrine swept the back of the classroom with two other girls.

“Excuse me. May I borrow the dustpan?” asked Cathrine.

The girl squeaked without looking at Cathrine as she placed the dustpan on the desk and ran to her friend.

The friend pointed to something outside. “Look it’s Dean!”

“Where!”

“Let’s hurry before he leaves!” The girls dashed out of the room.

Outside, the window crowd of students gathered. In the center, standing on a table, was her older sister, Florence. Over the excitement of the crowd, she heard Bloody Mary’s name.

Her sister had many friends at school, unlike Cathrine. All because of a stupid nickname.

“What are you looking at?”

Cathrine clenched the broom. To her annoyance, Edward stood behind her with a carefree grin. The boy was a year older and enjoyed pulling pranks on her.

Before she could answer, Edward peered out the window. “Is that your sister? The center of attention, as always.”

“It’s rude to sneak up on people.”

“I called out to you, but you didn’t answer. If you ask me, it’s rude to ignore people.”

“But I have every right to. Have you forgotten lifting my skirt, putting bugs on my chair, and let’s not forget calling me Ms. Hobgoblin on the first day of school?”

Edward twisted a piece of his brown, messy hair. “About that. I wanted to apologize for everything I did and said. But I wasn’t the one who started calling you a hobgoblin. It was your sister.”

Cathrine put the broom and dustpan in the closet. “How dare you say such things!”

“I’m not lying this time.”

“I’m not falling for your tricks!”

“You know. That’s not how you make friends!”

Cathrine grabbed her backpack on her way out.

The family gathered at the dinner table with plates of baked pork chops, bowls of salad, muffins, and treacle tart for dessert. They made the table with perfection, as expected from the lady of the house, Cathrine’s mother, and Emily the maid.

“Emily and I tried out a new recipe for dessert.” How does it look?” asked mother.

“It looks delicious,” said Father, reaching for the tart.

Mother slapped his hand away. “After dinner.”

Catherine suppressed the urge to laugh. “It looks delicious, Mother.”

“Thank you. What about you, Florence?”

Florence moved her food around on her plate. “Oh, good mother.”

“What have I told you about playing with your food?”

“I wasn’t- I mean… I am sorry, Mother.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“I was wondering. If I could bring my friends home. To help with schoolwork.”

“That sounds lovely. What do you think, dear?”

“It's fine with me. It’s her last year of school, after all. She should spend time with her friends,” said Father.

“True, we have so much to teach her about being a housewife. She is far behind Cathrine in etiquette.”

“At least I’m not friendless and boring,” Florence mumbled.

Cathrine kicked her sister in the shin under the table.

“Ow!” Florence kicked Cathrine back.

The girls glared at each other.

“Girls? Is something the matter?” asked Father.

“It’s nothing.” said the sisters together.

Their mother stared at them with suspicion. “After dinner, will you both wash the dishes?”

“Yes, Mother,” said the girls

Florence cleaned a plate while Cathrine dried and put them away.

“What did you tell everyone at school?” asked Cathrine. “I heard something about Bloody Mary.”

Florence paused, scrubbing a stain on a plate. “Did you tell, Mother?”

“No. Why? Are you going to summon her?”

“Of- Of course not. That’s nonsense.” She waved her arm in a fury. The plate slipped from Florence's hand. Catherine caught it before it hit the floor.

“You are thinking of summoning Bloody Mary!”

“Quiet!” she said in a low voice. “Mother and Father will hear you.

“Didn’t someone do the same and disappear for it?”

“I’ve heard, but no one knows who it was. So it’s probably not true.”

“But Bloody Mary isn’t real.”

“It doesn’t matter. All I have to do is say her name in the mirror three times. Then Jenna will help me pick out a flapper dress.”

“The one who wears her dress five inches shorter than everyone else?”

“Does she? Anyway, with Hazel coming over, everyone will know. I was the first to call Bloody Mary!”

Cathrine tried to think about who Hazel was, but another thought can to her. A lot of girls were coming over. Maybe she’ll be able to make a friend.

Catherine awaken staring at herself in the dresser mirror and the piece of fabric pinned with a needle. The unfinished beret she was making to impress her sister's friends.

She rubbed her eyes, then noticed her mother slept beside her, in the same clothes she had on the day before. Her hair undone and a tired expression.

The smell of green tea filled the bedroom. The kind her mother would make when Cathrine got sick.

“Wait, a moment. It needs more sugar.”

A woman with silver skin and her eyes were completely green. She stirred a cup of tea flowing in mid-air and a jar of sugar cubes along with it.

“You’re- you're not a dream?”

“I am Bloody Mary. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The cup floated in of Cathrine. “It’s nice to meet you - wait, what happened? What did you do to my father and sister?”

Mary stared at the cup. Cathrine took a sip. Hot and sweet the way she liked it. She could feel the calmness set in.

“I believe your father’s at work and your sister’s in class. Here. I’ll show you.” A square-shaped mirror appeared.

She saw her father at the factory carrying two car wheels, with bags under his eyes. Her sister sitting in class looking over her shoulder every minute.

“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Mary snap her fingers and Cathrine’s mother disappeared.

“Mother!”

“I sent her to bed. She was watching you all night.” Mary sat at the end of the bed.

“Florence summoned me and your parents did nothing about it.”

“It’s because we didn’t tell them! It’s not their fault!”

“Regardless. They can not say my name outside of this house. Or I will take your sister away.”

Catherine clenched her bedsheets under the covers. “If we do that, will you leave us alone?”

“Perhaps, but will it be easy for your sister?”

She looked back at her sister in the mirror, trembling. Cathrine could feel her temper rising.

“I believe your sister is the third person to summon me in this area. Why is that?”

“At school, it’s a test of courage.”

“Oh, Dear. that will not do. If one of my subjects answered the summons, they may get distracted, and some of them are not as kind as me.”

“Subjects?”

“I may need to go to this school.”

“No! I. I mean, don’t trouble yourself. I will take care of it.”

“You will?”

“Yes, Miss Mary.”

“How will you do that?”

“I, I will think of something!”

“Very well. If you do so. Then I will leave and your family will forget about me.” A small, round mirror appeared in front of Catherine.

“This will aid you if you give it your blood.”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it on my own.”

“If that is what you want, you can still use it once. Without the blood.” Bloody Mary hovered over the bed. “I will leave you now. Contact me through the upstairs mirror. When you wish to speak to me again.”

She disappeared into smoke. Catherine lay in her bed, speechless, as she held the little mirror in her hand.

It was then that their lives with Bloody Mary began. All she ever did was speak from time to time and move things around. She never really hurt anyone. Catherine got used to her presence. Her family was a different matter.

Her mother had to cut the maid’s time at the house. Leaving her with a lot of the work to do.

Father would stay up late at night with a rifle, but after he fell asleep, he would awake in his bed with the gun put away.

Florence stopped talking with her friends and would often mutter to herself.

As for Cathrine, it was still the same: she couldn’t get a word in with anyone in school.

Cathrine studied the small round mirror. She couldn’t see herself in it. Or anything else, like a blank sheet of paper.

“What can I do with this?”She shuddered at the thought of giving it her blood. “It can’t possibly tell me what to do!”

The mirror shined, revealing a face, but not her own. It was a boy with a big smile and messy brown hair.

“Edward!”