The Legend of the Magic Mirror, Part Two
“Beware of the Magic Mirror.”
That was the first line of the old manuscript I had found in my thrift store book.
“My name is Lacy James.” it continued, “And I want to warn anyone who reads this of the magic mirror.
I found it in an old trunk in my maiden aunt’s attic wrapped in paper. When I eagerly showed it to her, she shuddered and said I could have it.
‘But don’t you ever use it, Lacy.’ she warned me. ‘That’s a bad un.’
I wrapped it back up and smiled to myself. How could looking in a mirror be bad for one?
Later at home my best friend Constance and I unwrapped the mirror and marveled over it.
It was a gilt-framed oval mirror, held in the hand. There were two fancy initials on the back: “W. M.”
‘W M?’ said Connie. ‘Wilhelmina Murray?’
‘Oh, no,’ I said, giggling. She was refering to a charactor from Mr. Stoker’s excellent horror novel, Dracula, which we had both been reading.
‘No, it must mean something else-’ I shifted on the bed and the paper crinkled under me.
Connie looked down. ‘Lacy, something is written on the paper!’