As the memory faded out, panic set in. Heart thumping, legs quivering, I struggled to remember where the mirror was. I launched into overdrive, trashing the house in hopes of finding this mythical mirror. Triple checking every room, I heard a voice I had once heard before, “Attic,” echoing in my head. “Attic...?” I am unable to recall its location.  

So, I checked the last place the mirror was again. Every nook and cranny in my mother's room was scrutinized before I gave up and collapsed on the floor. Just as my eyes began to well with tears, I noticed a strange indent on the ceiling that had been painted over. Standing up, I got onto my tiptoes, using my long fingernails to chip away at the paint until a lever appeared. I pulled it, barely escaping before the latter crashed down.