Lettie knew something was wrong when she saw the scratches on the mirror. First of all, her mother was very proud of their antique mirror, which she had “rescued” from a flea market. She would never let anything happen to it. Second, no one was allowed to enter her mother’s private bathroom in which it resided. And third, taking a quick look around to make sure no one was looking, after a quick feel, it felt like something from inside the mirror had scratched it.

And Lettie couldn't tell anyone about it, because she couldn't admit she’d been in the bathroom. She turned to leave, but then heard a loud knock. Lettie listened to the door; no one there. The knock continued, and Lettie realized it was coming from the mirror. She turned slowly and stopped.

No.

No, no, no…

There was a face on the mirror that was not her own, female, with wispy white hair, completely black eyes trickling blood, with its mouth gone, as if erased. It raised a pale hand and knocked again, sending chills down Lettie’s spine. Lettie stepped close to the mirror and peered at it closely. Instantly, the thing reached out of the mirror and grabbed her, trying to pull her inside of the mirror. Lettie struggled, but the thing just pulled harder. Lettie braced her feet against the vanity and tugged herself free. The thing, deprived of its prey, hissed and lunged, but Lettie was too quick for it. She balled up her fist and smashed the mirror into a thousand glittering pieces. The thing writhed and shrieked, but eventually was sucked away into one of the shards. Lettie picked it up and threw it out the window.

Her mother burst into the room. “I thought I heard screaming―” She stopped dead. Lettie looked from her bloodied fist to the broken mirror. Her mother just stood there gaping like a fish out of water.

“I-I…”

Her mother swelled with fury―

“WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN HERE?”

Lettie winced.

“I COME IN THIS BATHROOM TO LET NATURE TAKE ITS COURSE AND HERE I FIND YOU WITH A BLOODY FIST STANDING IN FRONT OF MY BROKEN MIRROR―”

“It’s not yours.”

Her mother stopped. “What did you say?”

Lettie took a deep breath. “It’s mine. I bought it at the flea market, remember?”

Her mother gasped and put her hands to her mouth.

Lettie nodded. She had remembered.

“But why did you break it?”

“To prove it was mine.”

For one whole minute, mother and daughter stared at each other. Then the mother stepped forward and enveloped her daughter in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” came the mother’s muffled voice.

Lettie just held her tight.

She knew someday, she would have to tell.

But it wouldn't be today.

She made sure of that.

Lettie only saw the thing once more in her life, when she was quite old.

It was in her old looking-glass above the mantle. It came and knocked. She looked up at it and smiled sadly.

“Take me, then,” she whispered softly.

And she went willingly into its arms.