Mirror of Shadows by T. Lynne Tolles

it and their tremendous branches seemed to be reaching for the house as if to embrace it with love.
    On the porch appeared a woman. Her hair was a golden red and she wore a simple but lovely flowing white gown. It looked gauzy but not revealing, and the skirt seemed to dance around her feet as she moved toward Ella. The woman looked concerned as she approached and when she was close enough for Ella to make out more detail, she found the woman’s eyes to be a familiar green color—a green she had only ever seen on one person—and that is when she realized the woman was a younger version of her grandmother Rose.
    She started to speak to her. “My dear Ella.”
    “Grandma, oh Grandma, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before you died. I love you so much; I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
    “Ella, don’t be silly, it was just my time. You have nothing to be sorry about. You will be fine without me. You’re strong, smart and amazing, but I didn’t come here to tell you that. I’m here to warn you, my dear.”
    Like a skip or a jump in a movie film the scene in front of her flickered and started to fade.
    “What? Grandma, what do you mean ‘warn me’?”
    The picture became more faded and the whole scene seemed to be pulling away from Ella and filling in with black space until there was nothing to be seen. Before everything disappeared she heard her grandmother’s voice. It sounded garbled and far away when it said, “You’re in danger…,” then echoed and faded with each repetition until there was only silence.
     
    *****
     
    Another dream took the place of her grandmother’s voice—it was her new room in the house. Everything was washed in a dark blackish blue, but she could see. Something had awakened her; was it a voice? A noise? She wasn’t sure. She started walking as if she knew where she was going. She looked at the floor as her feet moved forward and she saw muddy foot prints. She seemed to be following these footprints. Down the stairs she crept, barely making a sound, to the hall where the mirror hung on the wall.
    The footprints stopped in front of the wall as if the person who made the prints stopped to gaze upon the mirror then disappeared. Ella looked up into the reflective glass and saw once again a shadow forming at the perimeter of the mirror and moving towards the face that looked back upon her. She reached up to the glass to touch the shadowy surface. It reacted by moving away from her touch but not without first tingling her fingers with an icy sting that made her draw back her hand quickly.
    The shadows grew and moved towards the center where her reflection looked back at her until it was all around her reflected head and all she could see was her face. It continued consuming her image like black ink until there was nothing in the mirror but black moving shadows. As Ella looked harder at the movement in the mirror a light started to appear from the center of the mass and a scene emerged.
    She saw a woman in an old fashioned looking white nightdress—Edwardian, Ella thought. The woman’s shoulder length light brown curls bounced and waved behind her as she ran through the forest in her bare feet. The hem of her dress was black, soiled with mud and dirt. She seemed scared and running for her life. She moved agilely through the brush and fallen debris as if she was familiar with these woods. She kept looking over her shoulder for pursuers but at such quick instances that Ella never quite saw the woman’s face. With the next look back, the woman tripped on an unseen branch, throwing her forward into a roll and landing her in a pile of leaves and mud. The woman looked up quickly as if she had heard her attacker close by and for the first time Ella saw the woman’s face through sweaty locks of hair. Though dirtied with mud and marred with a fresh bloody cut, the face was all too familiar—it was Ella. As quickly as the woman had turned to face her attacker, the face