I heard my name being called.
"Bloody Mary…" The girls chanted in unison.
"Bloody Mary…" I felt the pull as a couple of the girls began to waiver in their conviction to see me. So close, just one more call. But someone flipped on the light.
I was so close.
Lying hidden in the shadows, I wait. I wait until someone dares call me forth and unleash me on this world.
Time is irrelevant. Days, weeks, months, possibly years will pass before someone calls me again. Pulling me back from the depths of blackness.
Still…someone always does.
Just some dumb myth. They call me. A tale just to frighten children, with no concrete foundation.
Well, they will learn won't they?
They will call me forth and I will be free. Free of this glass cage, free of this ever present darkness. If only for a night.
"Bloody Mary…" I hear my call.
"Bloody Mary…" The boys summon. Boys, so much braver than girls, so much more…idiotic. The girls have the sense to chicken out. They feel me coming before the final call.
"Bloody Mary…" The boys squeal. I appear, seeing their faces through the mirror. The horror in their eyes when they see me is refreshing. I drink it in and smile crimson.
Screams. Light. And I'm back in the dark, awating a brave soul, a stupid soul, to stay.
I feel the pull before I hear my name. Whoever it is must be whispering. Alone, stands a boy, mumbling in a small, candle lit room. He doesn't move when I reveal myself, doesn't say a word. His eyes widen. "Hello." He says to me. "Are you…Mary?"
"I am."
His voice shows no fear. "Are you…lonely?" he asks quietly.
"What?" No one has ever tried to talk to me before.
"I get lonely sometimes." He says.
"Yes, I suppose I do." I responded, surprised at my own honesty.
"They say you tortured people…back when you were alive?"
I nodded. They boy's expression didn't change. "What do you do now? I mean, if you're stuck there, what do you do all the time?"
"I…I don't know, wait I guess."
"Until someone calls your name three times?"
"Well, Yes." I answered.
"What's it like?" He asked, so full of questions. "to die, to be like you? They tell me I'm dying, and I'm scared." He said bluntly.
I was a bit taken aback. Should I tell him what it's like? But then, it was different for me than most. I was beheaded. Held in a prison awaiting the day I knew was coming. I knew the exact time and date, I'm not sure if that made it better or worse. Instead of saying any of that, I decided to lie. Or at least tell him how I believed his death would be, so different from my own.
"It wasn't bad. The pain was gone, and I was free, at peace. It's actually harder to live. There's no pain, or sadness, it's just…done." I ended lamely.
They boy seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded.
"Thanks." He said, and he flipped on the light.