Mary-Ann

“Mary Ann!” I was five years old. “Oh, Mary Ann your dress is so pretty! Blue is my favorite color too,” I gushed. I spun around and watched with satisfaction as the edges of my dress fanned out. I was the flower girl at my cousin’s wedding, and the curls in my hair had just set. I loved the way Mary Ann’s pristine ringlets bounced as I moved. “Why, thank you.” I curtsied sweetly before I turned away from the mirror to my mother. “Mary Ann says she likes my dress too.”

“That’s nice dear,” my mother said nonchalantly. The anxiety which had once shook her voice whenever I mentioned Mary Ann had dwindled over the years, and was now almost nonexistent. She was helping my cousin put on her expensive shoes and was too preoccupied to pay me much attention. I turned back to the full-sized mirror to admire Mary Ann’s outfit again. The dress was powder blue with a white sash around the middle. A bow of the same white satin sat upon Mary Ann’s head, and her shoes were white and shiny. I inspected every inch of my reflection to make sure everything was perfect.

“Carol, it’s time to get in line, honey,” my mother said as soft music began to drift into our dressing room.

“Okay, Mommy!” I exclaimed. I was so excited. It was my first wedding, and I was loving every minute of it. I gave my reflection one last look before I turned to go. Then I realized that in my excitement, I had almost forgotten to say good-bye. I quickly turned back to the mirror and laid my hand on the cold, smooth surface. Mary Ann’s tiny hand met mine, and her smile matched that of my own. “Have fun,” I said to my reflection. “I have to go now, bye bye!”, and with that, I ran to the front of the line, just in time to stop my mother from telling me to ‘hurry up’ as she held out my basket of flower petals.

That was at least twelve years ago. My mother used to worry about the way I talked to mirrors. She even took me to see a child psychiatrist when I was about three, but the doctor had said it was normal for children to develop imaginary friends. He said that it was a good way for me to express myself, and I think it made her feel better.

As I grew up, I still spoke to Mary Ann. At seventeen, I was a high school junior, and considered relatively normal by my class-mates, despite my occasional tendency to speak to my reflection in public. As my best friend Andrea put it, I was “just a little off”, but that did not seem to deter any of my friends from putting up with me. Then, two months before summer vacation was scheduled to begin, I triggered the catastrophe which I had spent my whole life cultivating.

#

“Are you ready yet?” Andrea asked while tapping on the bathroom door.

“Almost!” I responded, “I just need to get my shirt on. Okay, I’m done.” I gave the mirror one final look before opening the door to let Andrea in.

“It’s about time. I still have to do my make-up.”

“Yeah, me too, and I have no idea what to do with my hair,” I lamented as I twisted a soaked and tangled strand between my fingers.

“Well whatever you decide to do, make it quick. Chase is going to be here in like, twenty minutes,” Andreas said as she leaned close to the mirror and began to put on her foundation.

“I know, I know. It’s just, ’you-know-who’ is going to be there, and I can’t look like I crawled out of a cardboard box.” Andrea shook her head. Her black hair was pulled back in a loose pony-tail, and she already looked stunning, makeup or no makeup.

“I can’t believe you’re still hung up on Tristan Donavan.”

“Whatever,” I laughed. “You would be too, if you didn’t have Chase fawning all over you.”

“I admit, he’s definitely a nine-point-five, but he’s so cocky! I don’t think I could take it.”

“I guess so, but he has a sweet side. You just have to get to know him,” I said.

“Carol, you’ve been ‘getting to know him’ for almost five years now. I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

“No way!” I scoffed, “This is the first time he’s actually been single in all that time, and that won’t last long. If I don’t go for it tonight, someone else will.” Andrea finished applying her eyeliner and then sighed.

“You might be right.”

“I know I’m right,” Andrea straightened herself up, and I put away the compact that I had been using to do my own make-up.

“I’m going to go call Chase and find out where he is,” Andrea said.

“Okay, I need to dry my hair anyway.”

Andrea walked into the other room, and I shut the door so the noise from my hair dryer would not drown out her phone call. After brushing my hair, I put a generous amount of mousse in it and flipped my hair upside down to blow-dry it. My hair is light brown, long, and very thick. By the time it had dried, my neck was stiff and sore. When I flipped my hair over, it was dry and very curly, just the way I like it, but something seemed strange.

I couldn’t figure it out, but something was just, off. I turned my head to one side and then the other. Nothing was wrong. I tilted my head to the side and stared at my reflection. I leaned in a little closer, and scrunched up one side of my mouth in contemplation. Oh my God! That was it. My mouth fell open in astonishment, but my reflection continued to smile.

I had not been smiling as I looked in the mirror, yet the faint trace of an amused grin sat on Mary Ann’s face. I squeezed my eyes shut tight for a moment, and when I opened them everything was normal. She stared back at me with wide, frightened eyes and a clenched jaw where the smile had been. I stared at her until Andrea knocked on the door.

“Hey, we have to go. Chase is here.”

“Okay.” I did not take my eyes from the mirror, and my voice was surprisingly steady. “I’m coming.” However, I did not move. Instead, I continued to stare into the mirror and studied every detail of Mary Ann’s face. Her eyes were a shade of green which was so dark that it could have been mistaken for brown, and her face was shaped like a slender heart. Her lips were about the right size, not too thick but not so thin that they were unnoticeable, and thanks to years of braces, her teeth were perfectly aligned within her almost-to-large mouth. A freckle, which my mother calls a beauty mark, sat high on her right cheek, almost level with her eye. Her normally olive skin was pale and clammy as a result of my shock. I swallowed my fear and ran outside to meet my friends. It was only after we had driven away that I realized I had forgotten to say good-bye to her. It bothered me more than it should have.

Chase was Andrea’s new boyfriend, and although I liked him well enough, he had an obnoxious quality that was hard to ignore. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked as I climbed into the backseat of his pickup. “Are you going to puke? Oh man, I swear to God, if you’re going to puke, you better not do it in the truck.” I must have looked as sick as I felt.

“Nah, I’m okay,” I assured. “I think I ate some bad chicken. I’ll be fine.” Chase glared suspiciously at me for a moment.

“Okay, if you say so, but I’m serious. I just had my baby detailed,” he patted his steering wheel lovingly. Andrea rolled her eyes. “Alright!” he exclaimed. “Who’s ready for this? Man, it’s been too long since I’ve been to a decent party.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed. The adrenalin was beginning to leach from my system, and it was becoming easier and easier to deny what I had seen.

“I don’t think you can handle this one, McAlister,” Chase taunted.

“Shut up!” I laughed. “You don’t know me. I can party as well as anyone, better than you probably.” Andrea laughed.

“Besides, since when are Liam’s parties so legendary,” she added. The last time I was at his house, he freaked out after someone threw up on one of his mom’s super exotic plants, and he kicked everyone out an hour into the party.”

“Yeah, well this one isn’t going to be at Liam’s house,” Chase said.

“Really? Then where are we going?” I asked. Chase just grinned, and fifteen minutes later we were parked in front of a dilapidated house. We had been running late, and the party within the crumbling house was well under way. The house was a large three-story structure. It was located miles outside of the city limits and had been abandoned for as long as I could remember. The walls seemed to bulge outward from the stress of the teenagers packed inside, and the entire structure looked like it was held together by only spider webs and dust.

“Umm, this does not look safe,” Andrea said.

“Yeah, she’s right,” I agreed. “This place looks like it’s going to come down any second.”

“Nah,” Chase countered, “this house has been standing since before we were born, since before our grand-parents were born, probably.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said.

“Well I’m going in. Come on,” he said as he grabbed Andrea’s hand and dragged her along. She turned back to look at me and shrug her shoulders. Alright, I decided if Andrea was brave enough to go inside, then so was I.

Inside, the music was deafening. The air seemed to be alive with of the vibrations running through it. Plastic cups and beer bottles littered every available surface. The inside of the house seemed to be as rundown as the outside, but it was hard to tell in the low lighting. The entire place was lit by hundreds of strands Christmas lights. They hung from the ceiling and ran up and down the walls.

“That definitely does not look safe,” I said to myself. Liam was probably oblivious to the fire hazard he had turned he house into. I looked around for Andrea and Chase, but they had been swallowed by the crowd. I was still taking in the scene when I felt two strong arms close around me, pinning my arms to my sides. I felt a moment of panic, but it dissipated as soon as I heard his voice in my ear.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere.” I laughed and turned around to face him after he let me go. “I was starting to think that you weren’t coming!” Tristan yelled above the music.

“Well, I was told that tonight is going to be legendary. You just can’t say no to something like that,” I yelled back. Tristan laughed.

“Do you want to dance?” He asked as he held out a plastic cup.

“Dance, yes. Drink, no. Someone has to be able to drive tonight, and it’s definitely not going to be Chase or Andrea.”

“I could always drive you,” he smiled. I raised one eyebrow. He already reeked of alcohol.

“I don’t even trust you to drive yourself right now.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to come home with you.” He stared down at me. His dark brown eyes were suddenly clear and focused. He was serious. I chuckled nervously.

“I don’t think my parents would appreciate that.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt us.” He smiled his dazzling smile. I thought my heart would stop beating. I wasn’t prepared for this.

“I love this song!” I lied. “We have to dance.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the center of the crowd. It broke the intimacy between us, and I could breathe again.

After half an hour of dancing, I touched my cheek, and my finger came away black with mascara. “Oh, crap. I have to find a mirror.” I yelled.

“Okay, hurry back.” He grabbed me before I could get too far, pulled me back to him, and kissed me. It was drunken and clumsy. His breath tasted like hot beer and salt, and I was light-headed with ecstasy by the time we broke apart. This was all going much better than I had expected.

I wobbled over to a hallway mirror, drunk with excitement, and tried to repair my mutilated makeup. It was impossible. There was barely enough light in the cramped hallway to even see the mirror. I gave up and looked for a bathroom.

I found an unoccupied restroom on the top floor. It was tiny, but well lit. A full-length mirror dominated one wall. I leaned close to the mirror and began to wipe the black streaks from my face. As I wiped away the last smudgy remnants of mascara, I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. I stared at my reflection, afraid to look away and afraid of what I might see if I did not.

A few seconds passed without event, and I was relieved. “I forgot to tell you good-bye, earlier. I’m sorry, Mary.” Mary Ann returned my somewhat forced smile. “I just scared myself. My mind was playing tricks on me, and I freaked out.” I laughed a short nervous chuckle. Mary Ann laughed along with me, but it was silent. It occurred to me that she was like an actor in an old black-and-white. No matter how loudly she laughed or screamed, no one would ever hear her.

“I have news!” I exclaimed, as if I’d suddenly remembered something important. The tinges of uneasiness welling up inside of me were easy to ignore as long as I kept up the momentum of my unconscious denial. “He kissed me.” I swooned. “Tonight is going to be amazing! I have to get back out there. I’ll tell you everything tonight, I promise.” After a moment of internal debate, I placed my hand upon the mirror as I had thousands of times in the past. Mary Ann’s hand rushed up to meet mine, and the mixture of excitement and disquiet on her face mirrored own. “Bye Mary, I’ll talk to you later.”

The glass was cold and impersonal; it’s smooth surface, hard and unyielding. Then, all at once, it wasn’t. The change in sensation was sudden and disorienting. The first thing I noticed was the instant warmth and softness. The tactile sensation of skin is unmistakable in its familiarity, yet I would not let myself admit that what I felt was flesh. The second and most alarming sensation I felt was a pressure which had not existed before. Instead of tolerating the presence of my hand obediently, the mirror pushed back.

The pressure I felt was that of Mary Ann’s hand pressing into my own. Her fingers wrapped around my hand and clinched tightly. I tried to pull back, but it was too little, too late. She held tight. I stared at our hands. Her fingers were locked around my hand like that of a lover, and mine were pulling back, straining against the joints in my knuckles to keep as far away from her hand as possible. I stared a moment longer, and then slowly, painfully, I lifted my gaze to meet hers.

She was smiling again. It was almost the same subtle smirk that I had witnessed in my own bathroom. This time, a hint of condescending triumph tugged the corners up a little further. The developing panic finally broke through my shock, and I screamed. Over the pounding music and drunken racket downstairs, my screams did not stand a chance of being heard. I tried to use my other hand to brace myself against the mirror and push away, but instead of meeting glass, my hand passed through until it connected with Mary Ann’s shoulder, causing me to almost lose my balance and fall against her.

Mary Ann threw back her head and laughed her silent laugh. I lost it. I pulled with as much force as I could muster. I threw back my whole body in an attempt to disrupt her equilibrium and loosen her grip. I thrashed and yelled, but none of it did any good. She was immovable; human skin wrapped around a steel frame. As much as I wanted to, I did not try to pry her fingers from my hand, simply because I did not want to touch her.

“Let go!” I screamed. Tears had begun to run down my face, dragging my mascara with them in oozing, black trails. “Stop it! LET ME GO!” The party downstairs roared on, oblivious to my horror. I was in a frenzy; restrained and helpless. “Help me, someone help me!” My voice had reached an octave ordinarily reserved for old horror movies and opera singers. 

I was still screaming when her other hand grasped my wrist. This time, I did try to pry her fingers loose, but it was useless. He smile widened as she released my hand and grasped my forearm above the wrist, above where her other hand held tight. She released my wrist and moved her bottom hand up above the other. Hand over hand she moved up my arm until she was at my shoulder. She was now over the threshold of the mirror and standing next to me. I pulled away as hard as I could, but she was immobile.

She pressed herself up against me, and as much as I strained, I couldn’t get far enough away to keep from feeling her breath against my ear as she spoke.

“So this is what you feel like.” Her breath was hot and shaky. “After years of being so close that I could almost touch you, I finally can.” She took one of her hands from my arm and gently ran it across my check before touching her own. “We’re so soft and so warm. Does everyone feel like this?” I had finally stopped screaming, not because I was no longer afraid, but because I was too petrified to open my mouth.

She laughed, and for the first time I heard her laughter loud and clear. She sounded like me, just like me. She leaned in closer. I could feel the motion of her lips against my ear. “I wonder what Tristan feels like.” I opened my mouth to object, but before I could form a single word, she grabbed my arm with both hands and swung me around, hard. I didn’t even realize that she had let me go until I was falling.

My arms shot out in an attempt to catch ahold of something, anything. I expected to fall against the mirror. I braced myself for the impact of shattering glass, but it never came. Instead, I just kept falling. I landed flat on my back, and my head snapped against the bathroom tile. I just caught the satisfied look on Mary Ann’s face as she turned to walk away. I tried to rise up, but the room began to swim. Everything went black as I let my head fall to the floor.

Suddenly, I was on my feet, and I was moving.  I walked into a dreary looking bedroom. I tried to stop myself, but I could only keep walking. I came up to a mirror, and that’s when I noticed him. It was Tristan! He was standing right behind me. He was holding my hand. I tried to turn to look at him, but I could only stand perfectly still and stare at our reflections in the mirror.

Something was very wrong. I could not feel his hand in mine, even though I could see our clasped hands in the mirror. I could not move, and I could not speak. Then my lips started moving on their own accord. I could hear my voice, but it was faint and far away. In fact, it was not coming from my own mouth, but from my reflection’s. It spoke as Tristan wrapped his arms around my shoulders, “I’ve always liked you, Tristan”. Tristan’s voice was faded and slurred as he replied.

“You’re so beautiful.” That’s when it hit me. I was not standing before a mirror, watching as Tristan's reflection embraced my own. We were the reflections; dim copies of the real world which rested just beyond a pane of silver glass.

I was turning around. I struggled against the impulse, but it was too strong. My arms wrapped themselves around the neck of Tristan’s reflection. His lips moved, and some distance behind me, I heard Tristan’s voice. “I always wanted you. All this time, I wanted you.” I smiled against my will. Reflection Tristan felt cold and insubstantial in my arms. No matter how much he looked like Tristan, he was not. I was not convinced that he was even alive.

The Tristan Thing began to lean closer. In my head, I was screaming, but out loud I said, “And I’ve always wanted you. I want you right now.”

That’s when his lips crashed into mine, and my arms wrapped even tighter around his neck despite my best attempts to stop them. He tasted like sawdust and smoke. I wanted to pull away, to keep his hands from touching me, but I was a prisoner to her desires. I was bound to whatever Mary Ann decided to do.

His hands began to roam around my back, and it made my skin crawl. His tongue forced itself between my lips. It felt like a dead fish flopping around my mouth. I would have cried had I been able. Finally, he broke away and took my face in both of his hands. Despite myself, I smiled as I looked into his eyes, but there was nothing there.

For a second, I wondered if Mary Ann’s eyes had looked like that, dead and vacant, and did they still. Did mine? Looking into the Tristan Thing’s eyes, I felt a despair that cut to the center of my soul. The gaze was so cold, so numb that for a moment I thought that it would suck away any happiness I had ever felt. I tried to look away; if I didn’t soon I felt I would scream, no matter what Mary Ann did or did not do. My head turned back to the mirror, and my desperation was replaced with rage.

She was smiling again, we both were I suppose, and I have never hated anything more than I hated her smile in that moment. She lifted one hand and brought it tantalizingly close to the glass. Our hands hovered inches apart before she laughed and pulled back. A slight shake of her head was the only confirmation I needed. She was not going to let me out, not now and probably not ever.

“Tristan, baby,” she murmured as she forced me to look back at the thing in my own arms. “I want to go back down stairs.” He pulled me close, and where I should have smelled alcohol and cologne, I smelled the scent of damp, rotted wood. My whole body wanted to tense with disgust, but instead it traitorously gave into his embrace.

Suddenly, I grabbed his hand and bolted for the door, laughing like a manic. We rounded the door-frame, just beyond the sight of the mirror, and he was gone. Everything was gone, and finally, I could move again.

Everything had faded away like retreating fog. Even the Tristan Thing faded, though before he disappeared completely, I had caught a glimpse of what really lay beneath the facade. First he became like smoke, transparent yet dark, and then he disappeared little by little until only his face remained. However, at this point the face no longer resembled Tristan. It was something more wild and malicious. It hovered for a moment before retreating back into the darkness as well.

After everything had gone, I collapsed. Pained sobs wracked my entire body until I did not have the strength to cry anymore. The more I tried not to think about the shadow-thing's hands touching me while he stared at me with the abyss where his soul should have been, the more I felt his touch. It was like mulch, smoke, and dirt all at one. It was rot, decay. I wondered how many more times I would be subjected to that, and I laughed at myself; as many times as amuses her. Though I’m sure that in time, she will eventually find new and exciting ways to torment me.

After an indeterminable amount of time, I picked myself up and began to walk. The air above me rose on forever as the same dark mist, and the ground below my feet seemed to not even exist. It was like I was walking on air, like the blackness below me was so complete that it held me up, and all around me the same darkness closed in ever tighter. I must have walked for miles, and I never found a thing.

The more I thought about my situation, the more regret I felt. It was all my fault. I had given her a name and an identity. The power to control herself freely had come from years of human interaction. Once she had realized that I knew her, once I began speaking to her, she had all that she needed. She had spent years learning to be me, and now she is almost a better me than I was myself. When it is just the two of us, separated by dimensions but deeply connected by our knowledge, she is smug and proud. She flaunts her freedom and her satisfaction at my imprisonment. I still hate her.

There are others shadows here like the thing that Tristan's reflection became. They seem angry and restless. I think they want to be more than they are. They want to be us, and that is why they mimic us so well. They are watching, learning, and waiting for the chance to break free.

Many times since that first day, I have had the opportunity to look into Mary Ann’s eyes. They are as dead as those of the other reflections’, and that gives me hope. Perhaps, someday, someone will look into her eyes and experience the same chill I feel when she stares at me. Maybe, they will even go to a mirror, and look themselves in the eye, searching for the same soullessness.

But, what if they find it; if they start to see the truth staring back at them? I am alone here now, but how long will it be until others find their way to this place? It will happen. Eventually, someone will look into her empty eyes, and it will draw their attention to the chasm behind their own reflection’s eyes.

That’s all it takes. Someone just needs to see the truth and then reach out. The shadows will take care of the rest. Oh God, what have I begun?