And the Light Fades (chapter 4 part 2)

The mirror is still slightly blurry from the fog of Sophia’s shower. The room smells like mint and lavender soap and is a nice change from the cold weather outside. Slowly I pick through my hair, pulling away the gold tinted pins that held it up for some of the day. I count seventeen pins and then carefully start to comb my hair. The wind has knotted my red hair tangling it all the way down past my shoulders. I pull gently, but gentle won’t rid me of the tangle and knots. I pull harder, my eyes squinting in concentration.

There is a flicker in the mirror. I put the brush down and open my eyes all the way. The mirror has started to fog over; the glass is even more opaque than it was when I came into the room. A shadow dances behind me, wavering like a candle flame. It disappears behind the shower curtain, a silhouette moving behind the thin plastic drape.

I ignore it and pick up the brush again, pulling through my hair until it is straight. I set the brush down on the porcelain sink. My hand quickly swipes a path through the fog, and I look at myself in the mirror. There are circles under my eyes and I can finally see the claw marks that curve on my face outlining my temples. They are pink on my pale freckled skin, standing out drastically.

The curtain rustles behind me. I look away from my reflection and turn backwards. It stops but I still feel like I’m being watched. I want so badly to reach and pull the curtain back, but going toward the mysterious rustling curtain doesn’t seem like a good idea. A sound like marbles falling spills through the small space as the round metal hooks slide against the rod. Then like some one has taken a hammer to the mirror it shatters as a picture is reflected in it. I fall. The ground, cold and hard, the tile riddled with shards of glass that push into my palms.

I know I’m going to regret it but I crawl toward the tub, ignoring the pain. A scream slices through the warm air when the curtain shifts. I feel like my lungs are going to explode and my voice is going to crack.

“Alyce, unlock the door right now,” Aunt Jessa yells from the hallway, banging on the door loudly. I look back to the tub before I open the door; I don’t want her to see it.

My fingers are numb when I fumble with the door, listening to Aunt Jessa yelling for me to hurry up; I try hard not to scream back. Even if I knew what I was going to tell her I don’t think my voice would allow it.

I open the door half way through her third shriek and stumble forward into the hallway. I hit the carpet since she moves as I fall, unsure of what’s happening. When I face plant against the carpet, she begins to worry.

“Alyce, what’s going on?” Aunt Jessa asks her forehead is wrinkled with worry. I sit up on the carpet and lean against the wall. I can see Sophia peaking out of her bedroom, holding Beaver so she won’t get in the way. I don’t know how to explain it to Aunt Jessa; I don’t really want to explain it to anyone. I don’t want to think about it.

“There is a body in the…tub,” I almost choke on the words. “The mirror is broken,” I whisper, my throat is sore from my screams. I look up at Aunt Jessa her blue eyes on mine. She doesn’t glance into the bathroom, she believes me. I mean why else would I scream like that. It can’t be nothing.

“Alyce, what are you talking about?” she asks. I don’t watch as she pushes the door back, the light and heat from the bathroom pouring into the hallway. She doesn’t say anything as she looks around. I can hear the tinging sound as she pulls back the curtain, exposing herself to the gruesome sight. But there is no gasp of surprise, nothing. I wait for her to let out at scream like mine or say something at least.

“Alyce,” she says calmly like she is telling me something that is hard to get out. “There is nothing in here.” I look straight ahead, the bars of the banister looking out over the living room.

“I saw it. It shattered her reflection. She was there,” I mumble. I don’t think Aunt Jessa can understand me, but I know she hears me. I think that makes it worse. I don’t blink. I know what I saw, I know it.

“Mom, give her some space,” Sophia says from the end of the hallway, obviously eavesdropping on our little incident. I don’t look at her either. I don’t look at anyone, I’m afraid I will see the dead girl’s face in their own, so familiar and haunting. Frightening me to the point I’ll break. Right in half I would crumble, folding into myself until there’s nothing left. Nothing to watch these horrible things or confuse the people I love. I would be gone.

Aunt Jessa moves away from me. Sophia’s tone is demanding and hostile forcing her mother to move.

“There is no one there, Alyce, you’re scaring me. Stop doing that,” Aunt Jessa is pleading with me hoping and praying that the mumbling stops. But she doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m crazy.

I hear Sophia’s door squeak shut. She has given up. She won’t try to help me anymore. I can hear the soft pads of Beaver’s feet as she walks across the carpet in my direction.

Her orange nose presses cold against my hand. I move to pet her, my hand slides over her silky back, pushing down on her fur. That’s when I see it, crimson blood forms a line on Beaver’s back where my hand touches her. I think Aunt Jessa notices.

“It was the mirror,” I explain, I try to imagine the look on her face, but don’t turn to see it. As I look through the gaps in the railing I can see the dust in the air as the light catches it. I focus on the tiny particle as she speaks slowly and calmly so that I don’t misunderstand.

“There is no body,” she says. There is power and disbelief in her voice. “The mirror is not broken. You are wrong.” I don’t know how she can possibly think that. If I saw something I wouldn’t lie about it, not about this.

“No,” I whisper, “you’re wrong.” I’m not sure if she hears me but I can figure it out when she response.

“What did you say?” She asks, she sounds insulted and angry. She knows what I said but I say it louder so she is satisfied.

“You. Are. Wrong.” I repeat putting space between the heated words. She lets out as deep breath, loud enough for me to hear the sigh.

“Alyce, listen to me. You didn’t see anything. There is no one behind the curtain, nothing is wrong with the mirror, your hand was probably cut on the brush, the handle is cracked, it was like that when I went in there.”

“You don’t know what I saw.” There is a hint of melancholy in my voice. I have to convince her she is wrong.

I stand, pushing Beaver away, she yowls softly in protest. The door knob is slippery with the blood on my hand. I wrap my hand tightly in the folds of my dress and push the bathroom door back.

Slowly I step into the room. It is normal. Completely normal, but that’s not how it was. The shower curtain has been pulled back. There is no girl in the tub; her body isn’t there. There are no spots of ruby on the white porcelain.

I twirl around. I am reflected back, a bewildered expression frozen like I’m wearing a mask. There are no shards or splinters of glass pooled in the sink; no crinkle of glass under my feet.

It still smells like lavender, but only a little. There is a hint of copper in the air. Liquid blood is smeared on the cracked handle of my hair brush.

“She was there,” I say to Aunt Jessa. I reach out my hand and point to the corner of the tub. I can still imagine her shape there, crumpled and red. It’s like looking into the sun too long, a red tinge outlined there, glowing on the white.

“Look, Alyce,” she says, looking into the room where I point and shaking her head. “I’m sure whatever you saw was just in your head, nothing was really there.” I look at her, my eye are filling I can feel it.

“Then how in the world do you explain the mirror shattering. It was right in front of me. I could hear it; I could see it and I could feel it. It was real.” I dispute, my voice rising at the end. When I look back at her frustrated and unbelieving face the tears do come. I am silent. Speaking words will not help; I should have known this by now.

“Alyce, I’m sorry,” Aunt Jessa tells me. I look into her eyes; I don’t think she means it. Empathy rims her voice slightly. You’re not, I think. But I nod like I believe her.

Saaaarah. Stella here!

I. NITPICKS

The wind has knotted my red hair tangling it all the way down past my shoulders.

This sentence by itself just seems awkward and unneeded, especially with the repetition of "hair." Try incorporating it into the last sentence.

I can see Sophia peaking out of her bedroom,

peeking.

I mean why else would I scream like that. It can’t be nothing.

should there be a question mark at the end of this?

Aunt Jessa moves away from me. Sophia’s tone is demanding and hostile forcing her mother to move.

comma after hostile, I think, but try get a second opinion xD

when she response.

responds.

“What did you say?” She asks,

small s.

“You. Are. Wrong.” I repeat

I'm not sure what the grammar rules here are, again, ask someone else.

II. OVERALL

Probably the strongest part out of the last few! See, here's our plot, finally worming its way in there. A few things seem unclear to me though- I assumed it was the sound of the mirror shattering that brought Aunt Jessa running, if it didn't break, then why did she suddenly turn up? *reads again* Oh, you do mention a scream, but I thought that was one of her... vision/hallucination things. You might want to clarify that. The part where the body appears, while what you've done is consistent with your style so far, but I didn't know there was a body in there. You then mention it's familiar to Alyce- does that mean it's a character we've met? If you want to leave that for a cliffhanger, fine. But I'd play up how it's familiar to her. More importantly, I'd take the chance when she first sees the body to describe it. Firstly, to properly display the gruesomeness of it, and secondly, to just... make sure we know what's going on. Because right now it's just too vague.

Hope I helped, drop me a note if you need anything!

-Stella x

Hi Sarah!

Oooh, what is that I see behind the corner? Is it -- no, it can't be -- but yes, it is! Action! Wooo! This is starting to get interesting.

I have come up with yet another way to express my thoughts about the thing you do a lot. In my earlier reviews, I've been calling it slow pace or something equally vague, but now I have another idea about it. It's that you see the images and happenings clearly in your head -- who looks where, how their neck wrinkles when they turn their head, what expression their eyes have etc. -- and then you write down all you see, not missing a detail. But you actually didn't have to do go as far. You might consider saying:

The curtain rustles behind me. I look away from my reflection and turn backwards.

but actually, the readers will understand just fine what's going on if you say:

The curtain rustles behind me. I turn my head.

See? It's much easier for you, and it won't drag the reading down. You know how you often create a whole character sheet about a character with all this little detailed info, like their zodiac signs and birthdays, but never half of it in the story? It's just to get to know your character better. It's a bit same thing in this situation: you know exactly what happens and how it happens, but you don't need to tell everything you know. In the character case, when the readers don't know everything, they'll want to know more. And in this case, when the readers don't feel so suffocated by all the unnecessary words, they'll want to keep reading.

Another reason to do the "less is more" thing is simply that readers are able to think and draw conclusions by themselves, so they will understand that when Alyce turns her head, she looks away from her reflection at the same time. No need to specifically say it.


Another thing to pay attention to: Aunt Jessa says "Alyce" a lot when she talks to Alyce. It seems a bit funny, Sarah. Do you know why? Well, Sarah, the reason it seems funny is that when there are two people having a conversation, they automatically know that the other one is addressing them, Sarah. That's why they don't feel the need to clarify it. How often do you use a friend's first name when you talk to him/her? I would imagine not very often.


I agree with Stella that the whole bathroom scene with the hallucination was a bit vague. I actually didn't get what was going on the first time I read it. So, I'll continue a little from the too-many-details thing and say that you should use more words and energy and screen time for the things that actually matter, like the hallucination and the consequences in this chapter. I know I'd much rather read about the MC slowly losing her mind than her brushing her hair.


But still! I like that something's finally happening now. Hopefully it keeps up!


Demeter
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