mirror, key, handkerchief
30MIN
Lucille gaped at the items her grandmother had given her in disbelief.
"Thanks... for the birthday presents..." she chirped sarcastically, caustic tone thick. Her grandmother warmly smiled. Clearly someone hadn't gotten the message.
"No prob, dear," She hummed, clasping her hands together. "After all, a mature thirteen year old like you deserves such precious presents!"
Lucille struggled to maintain her phlegmatic disposition.
Even long after her grandmother's departure, Lucille still strained to think of why a mere mirror, key and handkerchief would be so significant in a world where a gift card would do just fine. Ensconced on her new silk bed, she scrutinised the weathered items. After all, the rain pounded on the windows and a frightful draught howled down the chimney-she would need at least something to do.
The mirror gleamed. Although rusty and weatherbeaten, it appeared peculiarly resplendent in the dimness. How odd. The wails of the morose climate outside was the only sound filling the house, her parents had gone out partying.
She sniffed it-and then quickly recoiled, despising the metallic, blood-like scent that fouled her nostrils. 'Needs a bit of polishing,' she thought bitterly.
Lucille clasped the handkerchief from her bedside table. The bundle of rags would have to be of some use. She scrubbed it into her reflection. Sluggishly, the smears on the glass began to fade as another view came into sight.
It did not end up being her reflection.
Lucille goggled at it, almost inclined to pinch herself. Utterly skeptical, she scrubbed a bit more.
A keyhole appeared. Lucille sprang up from her curled position, her roused alertness directing her to the key that she had tossed aside. No, it wouldn't work-that possibility was too ridiculous.
Or was it?
Lucille scrambled towards the key, fumbling with it as she inserted it-yes, that's right- into the mirror. The satisfying click it made as it miraculously entered the hole only further bewildered the girl. Her heart thudded in her chest as she shakily turned the key. A creaking sound emitted from the mirror.
It was as if something was entangled in her chest, ready to burst out as she anticipated what would happen next. But the next few moments were only met with an eerie quiescence. Lucille sighed, every tensed muscle in her body immediately relaxing.
Too soon-the mirror's surface had discreetly vanished, growing more and more effulgent in the darkness. Lucille, at a loss for words, stood stock-still as she helplessly watched the light exacerbate and expand, filling the room. A flash-and then nothing else.
"Lucille?" A voice called, footsteps increasing in volume as they approached the door. "Lucille, we're home!" The door swung open. Two people made their entrance, drenched and panting.
They were met with the sight of an empty room, save for the three small objects that lay scattered on the bed.
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