Carl tried to warn me about the book, but I couldn’t see the harm. Polly wanted it so much, and I wanted so much to win his child round.
“All little girls play at magic spells,” I told him, “she’ll grow out of it.”
But she didn’t, and I didn’t win her round, either. She continued to regard me with simmering resentment.
That morning I heard voices from her room, and went to see if her friend would be staying for lunch. There was no friend. Polly was staring intently into the mirror, conversing gravely with her reflection.
“.. coward. Daddy doesn’t love Mummy, Daddy loves you. He’ll forget Mummy, like he did before. I’ll make him forget.”
I must have gasped. She turned. They stared at me, her and the girl in the mirror, and said
“You shouldn’t listen at doors, Mummy. You might not like what you hear.”
A Halloween tale for Visdare . . . follow this link for the prompt image and to read the other responses.