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Friday, June 17, 2011

There is something weird about Your Mirror...

By Mary Claire Christner Catado

“You’re out of your mind, Antonio!” shouted Victoria with a tinge of anger in her voice.
“Stay away from me I don’t love you anymore!” Antonio replied with a wrinkled forehead. Victoria went out together with her children, Angela and Chloe, leaving Antonio and his mistress.
Victoria called someone at the phone with tears falling from her greyish-brown eyes towards her rosy white cheeks.
“... We’ll be there in an hour...” The call ended up abruptly. While riding the cab she reminisced the moments she shared with her husband. Unexpectedly, her ten year old daughter, Chloe, saw her weeping. “Is there anything wrong, Mom?” The innocence of Chloe’s voice utters Victoria.”No, there is nothing wrong my dear.” Victoria replied holding back her tears. The silence of the night seems endless, hopeless.
Finally, they had arrived at their old mansion at the province of Capiz. Chloe stared at her watch, time? Thirty minutes after nine. Victoria carried her baby sister Angela carefully, while Mrs. Esperanza and her husband, Mr. Eugenio helped us get our things inside. The cold air struck an eerie feeling at Chloe. She looked around but found nothing, except the dark vast night sky filled with twinkling stars.
                “Chloe, come up now, it’s getting late!” Victoria said with a high range voice, enough for Chloe to hear from a quite distance. “Be right there!” she replied and hurried to get inside. Upon wandering her new home, she was captured by the gigantic flashy mirror located at their living room. She carefully gazed at the mirror. It seems that the reflection was broken; every single fast movement I’ve done slows down. Creepy, this was the only thing that pops out her mind. A cold breeze touched her. She shivers. Her body freezes like somewhat trying to escape from the midst of danger.
“Chloe, what are you doing down there? It’s now quarter to ten. And I bet you better go to your room and have a sound sleep.” Victoria commanded her with a lamp in her hand, because of their immediate arrival the caretakers, Mrs. Esperanza and Mr. Eugenio, wasn’t able to fix the lights of the second floor. “Mom can I sleep at your room, this house is kind of—creepy.” Chloe pleaded her mother with her greyish eyes wide open. “Enough of your illusions Chloe now go” Victoria with a forceful voice.  Chloe quickly followed her mother’s request. She entered her room slightly shivering; she then again gazed at her watch, 10 minutes before ten o’clock. She felt drowsy, but “No way, I’m not sleeping here, scared? No, of course, better got to sleep, uh... imaginations!” she tells herself. Confidently, she pulled her blanket and slept with the lamp turned off.
The cold mysterious breeze stroke again with whispers, woke her up. Time check, 3:00 a.m. hurriedly, she turned on her lamp and found out, a trace of blood spots scattered on the floor. Chloe proved to herself a bold and fearless girl, she followed it. The track was towards their living room. In front of the huge mirror, she was now shivering, tamed. She raised her lamp and slowly walked towards the enormous mirror. Chloe was about to scream because of what she had seen, but she made herself courageous to face it. The reflection was different. Chloe saw a beautiful lass sobbing inside the mirror. “Help me, please help me!” the lass sincerely said. The mirror seemed portraying a story. The story of what had happened to the beautiful caged lass, where she was raped and murdered at the room where she was sleeping and she was thrown away at their garage by their caretaker, Mr. Eugenio. Chloe couldn’t believe the things happening towards her. She bravely helped give justice to the lost soul.
Chloe was searching for evidence, opening her mind to everything around, investigating every room around the house. In the middle of her search she found a wedding ring at their rusty old garage. She carefully studied the ring.  “Poof! Evidence!” she murmured. Chloe called the police.
Just about how many minutes the cops had arrived. Victoria, Mrs. Esperanza and Mr. Eugenio were surprised why in the world the cops were there. “Chloe, now what are you up to?” Victoria asked Chloe with brows up towards the sky. “Mom, this is simple, let me tell you a story of a lass named, Christine. She was a resident in this village, about five years ago, she was the most beautiful lass, uhm, I mean beautiful, and there goes this man who was captured by the beauty of this innocent young woman. She was murdered and thrown away this very spot”. The cops tried to dig the exact location where Chloe was found. All of them were surprised. Mr. Eugenio remained silent. “Little girl, who do you think was the man who killed Christine?” asked one of the cops. “It is no other than, Mr. Eugenio!” Chloe courageously said. “Do you have any proof that my husband really murdered her?” Mrs. Esperanza said with a strong pitch of voice. “That’s simple; just simply look at this wedding ring. It is similar to the wedding ring of Mrs. Esperanza; in short it is Mr. Eugenio’s ring. Mr. Eugenio, aren’t you now bothered by your conscience?” she frankly questioned. “Yes, I killed her. I killed her because I’m angry with her father for getting the piece of land we owned. I’m sorry my dear.” Mr. Eugenio sincerely admitted his mistake. He headed towards the cops and bid goodbye to his wife. The night came, but Christine slowly began to disappear and she never bothered me again.
My last warning: BEWARE OF YOUR MIRROR.



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The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires. ~William Arthur Ward. The best teacher is the one who suggests rather than dogmatizes, and inspires his listener with the wish to teach himself. ~Edward Bulwer-Lytton. A teacher's purpose is not to create students in his own image, but to develop students who can create their own image. ~Author Unknown. What the teacher is, is more important than what he teaches. ~Karl Menninger. Teaching should be full of ideas instead of stuffed with facts. ~Author Unknown. The task of the excellent teacher is to stimulate "apparently ordinary" people to unusual effort. The tough problem is not in identifying winners: it is in making winners out of ordinary people. ~K. Patricia Cross

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