Janelle Chevalier

Prologue

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"Look into the mirror."

The words were mere whispers in Janelle's ears. She took a second, hesitant look at the Ouija Board and waited. Waited for what exactly, she didn't know. Maybe for something to suddenly appear from the pink-stained wood. Or maybe she waited for herself to wake up and realise that it was all a dream. Just a dream. She bit her hand—pinching just wasn't painful enough—and winced. Not a dream.

"Look into the mirror," the voice repeated and Janelle averted her gaze from the board to the mirror. She saw the side of it, and for that she was thankful.

A bead of sweat ran down her temple as she nervously surveyed the room for anything that could comfort her. The door screamed at her to run out of it and get the heck away. It was an easy escape, but she couldn't let her friend stay alone in the room with something that her own stupidity had brought out.

Janelle was now hyper-aware of everything that happened in her bedroom: her hitched breaths, her friend's soft snores as she slept undeterred, and if she focused enough, the sounds of her heartbeats lashed at her ears as it jumped in her chest. She felt a lump in her throat as the room swirled around in her vision.

"Go on, take a look. I am beautiful," the voice whispered gently, alerting Janelle slightly before it laughed softly. She guessed that the voice belonged to a woman. It was soothingly melodic, making her believe that the woman was indeed beautiful.

Braving a couple of steps, Janelle took a deep breath then exhaled slowly through her nose. She saw her brothers do that when trying to contain their anger, and it helped them apparently. She looked over her shoulder at her sleeping friend. She was a light sleeper, but she wasn't bothered by the sound and that unnerved her deeply.

An owl hooted outside the window. Janelle nearly screamed right then and there; she prided herself that she didn't.

The mirror was closer now.

"Yes, my dear. I won't scare you, I promise," the voice whispered, almost lovingly and full of affection. Despite the calming words, Janelle remembered a horror movie she saw a few weeks ago: a soft voice luring children and young adults to it then they were found dead in a strange set of events. She shivered at the memory, hoping she wasn't being taken out of the living world anytime soon.

Janelle touched the mirror reluctantly, feeling the slightly rough texture of the wooden frame. She moved her fingers in a caress, realising that nothing was forcing her to actually heed the voice's soft command. She could run to her brothers. Heck, she could scream for help right now. But she was curious and had a strong urge that told her she needed to look into the mirror. She played with her golden locks absentmindedly, a nervous habit of hers, as she inched slowly towards the reflecting surface.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stepped in front of the mirror. "One...two..." she counted and opened her eyes as soon as she uttered a quiet 'three'.

She screamed.

Stumbling back, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find—a hairbrush—and threw it at the mirror with as much strength as she could master. With a scathing sound, the mirror shattered into pieces. The mild thud of the hairbrush was preceded by the scattering splinters of glass. She took large gulps of air and put a hand on her chest, in a futile attempt in trying to calm her racing heart.

"Jell? What is wrong?"

Her friend's worried tone jerked her out of her stupor. Janelle turned her head around, and she could see the moment the other girl's eyes widened at her pale face and quivering form.

"Jella!" She jumped off the bed in an instant and took Janelle into her arms. "What's wrong?"

Janelle turned her head back towards the mirror. She couldn't move her lips to form a response. Her eyes were fixed on the little piece of mirror still stuck on the wooden surface...and the piercing blue eyes staring back.

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