Catherine’s Mirror

Part 1. In 1923 Britain, twelve-year-old Catherine must find a way to banish the elegant specter her sister summoned, before Bloody Mary destroys their family.

Photo by Habila Mazawaje on Unsplash

In 1923, Britain’s twelve-year-old Catherine was asleep in her room with a high fever until her father grabbed her out of bed. She was too weak to open her eyes or think of anything, but she heard her father’s heart beating rapidly.

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

“The back door!” her father yelled.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” her older sister pleaded.

She heard heavy objects slide across the floor and collide with each other with a bang. Her mother and older sister let out horrified screams.

“Please stay, I insist,” said a woman’s sweetly kind voice. A voice she has never heard before.

Catherine couldn’t take it anymore. She opened her eyes with the strength she had, and she saw. Furniture floated around an elegant lady in a fifteenth-century white dress. Long black hair and skin like dust.

Catherine’s eyes became heavy, and she fell back asleep.

The Lonely Catherine

A week before Bloody Mary’s arrival, Catherine swept the back of the classroom with two other girls. One of them was using the dustpan to sweep up dirt in the third row of desks.

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

The girl squeaked without looking at Catherine as she placed the dustpan on the desk and ran to her friend, staring out the window. Catherine simply sighed and took the dustpan.

It’s always the same, no matter how well-behaved she is. But she’ll make sure it’s different this time. Once she’s done cleaning, she’ll stand in front of the door. And then they’ll have to talk to her.

“Look, it’s Dean!”

“Where!”

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

“Wait!” said Catherine.

They weren’t even done with their side of the classroom, she sighed again and turned to the window. Students crowded, and in the center, standing on a table, was her older sister, Florence. Amidst the excitement and noise, she heard Bloody Mary.

Her sister had friends unlike Catherine. Girls to talk and play with. If only she didn’t have that stupid nickname.

“What are you looking at?” said a boy with a playful tone.

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. “Isn’t that your sister? The center of attention, as always.”

“It’s rude to sneak up on people,” Catherine answered with a cold look.

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

“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.”

Indeed, they had somewhat of a rivalry, but Florence wouldn’t do that behind her back.

Catherine glared at him before putting 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!”

“I’m not tricking you. It’s the truth,” he said, trying to look her in the eyes, but she turned away.

Catherine grabbed her backpack on her way out and left the classroom in a rush.

Family

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

“Emily and I decide to try out a new dessert recipe.” How does it look?” asked mother.

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

Mother slapped his hand away. “After dinner.”

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

“Thank you. What about you, Florence?”

Florence moved her food around on her plate. “Oh, it’s good, Mother.”

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

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

“Is something on your mind?”

“I was wondering if I could invite my friends to a sleepover? To help with schoolwork.”

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

“It’s fine with me. It’s her last year of school,” said Father.

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

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

Catherine kicked her sister in the shin.

“Ow!” Florence kicked Catherine back.

The girls glared at each other across the dinner table.

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

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

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

“Yes, Mother.”

In the kitchen, Florence washed the dishes while Catherine dried and put them away.

“What did you tell everyone at school?” asked Catherine. “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 would be 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!”

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

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

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

“Then 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.” She scrubbed the plate before passing it over. The plate almost slipped out of Catherine’s hands at the mention of Jenna.

Other than Edward calling her Habgablin. Jenna spread made-up stories about her.

Her sister did not notice and happily raved, “With Hazel coming over, everyone will know. I was the first to call Bloody Mary!”

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

It was the day after the sleepover that Bloody Mary had invaded their home.

Life with Bloody Mary

Catherine awoke, staring at herself in the dresser mirror and the piece of fabric pinned with a needle. The former surroundings of her bedroom. She had planned to make a beret to impress her sister’s friends when they came over.

She rubbed her eyes. Her mother slept beside her, in the same clothes she had on the day before. Her hair was a mess, and she looked tired, as if she had been up all night.

The smell of green tea had filled the room. The kind her mother would make when Catherine got sick.

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

A woman with silver skin, white hair, and gigantic eyes with no Iris. She stirred a cup of tea, which flowed in mid-air. 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 flowed towards Catherine. “It’s nice to meet you — wait, what happened? What did you do to my father and sister?”

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

“I believe your father’s working at the factory and your sister is in class,” Mary answered. “Here. I’ll show you.” A mirror appeared.

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

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

Mary snapped her fingers, and Catherine’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 and go on with their lives. 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. Catherine 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 could get distracted, and some of them are not as kind as I am.”

“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.

“Give it just a little of your blood, and it’s yours.”

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

“If you need it, you can still use it once. Without the blood.” Bloody Mary hovered over the bed. “I will leave you now. Contacted 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.

Their life 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, but 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 raffle, but after he fell asleep, he would awake in his bed with the gun put away.

Florence stopped talking with her friends and often mutters to herself.

As for Catherine, it was still the same: she couldn’t get a word in, much less change a rumor.

Catherine 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 remembered Mary telling her to give her blood and shuddered at the thought. “It can’t possibly tell me what to do!”

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

“Edward!”

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear what you thought of this short story. Leave a comment and let’s discuss. Part 2 is coming soon.