As any tale does in a tiny town, the news of the missing Anna spread through Laval like wildfire. The local Laval High School students were no exception, spending as much of their time as they dared to gossip with their gaggle of peers. Their teachers strode through the halls with fierce feet and narrowed eyes, cracking down on the distraction when they spotted them. Still, it did little to dispel the rumors and the undertone of fear in the school.
Elle, whose parents ignored the news, finding it too depressing, was one of the few students who hadn’t heard. But even she could sense the oppressive atmosphere, watching as students scuttled around fearfully in groups, casting suspicious glances at passersby.
Her curiosity piqued, she arrived early to her classes, pulled out her books, and pretended to study as she listened for any hint of the event that had shaken up the town. The teachers did their best to quell the talk, but Elle’s luck came through during lunch when students gathered around tables in the cafeteria under the watchful eyes of their teachers, the dull hum and roar of their conversations loud enough to cover up most of the details.
Elle’s family had moved to Laval from a big city only a few months ago, leaving Elle friendless. The much smaller town, she found, was already divided into cliques, and it was difficult to slide your way into the fully formed groups. Elle had tried and was friendly enough with her classmates, but they disappeared like ghosts when the school day ended. And so, she sat alone, with all the time in the world for eavesdropping. Catching wind of a conversation the next table up, Elle strained her ears, blocking out the rest of the cafeteria.
“Did you hear?” A girl turned to her friend and asked, her voice going high-pitched with excitement and barely making it across the roar of their classmates.
Her friend nodded furiously, almost making eye contact with Elle, who quickly looked back at her peanut-butter sandwich. “About the missing woman?”
Another student, her back turned to Elle, joined in. “Missing person? Like those cases?”
“Exactly!” The first girl said. She leaned forward, speaking in a near whisper, “My mom works with the police, and she said that they’re going crazy right now! Yesterday, they followed a report to find it was the exact same as cases going back decades! Mom threw all of the mirrors out yesterday, just in case. Said her mom always told her tales of the monster in the mirror.”
The other two listened with wide eyes. With excitement or fear, Elle couldn’t tell.
“My mom did the same thing!”
“My mom didn’t want to, but my grandma set her straight.”
The first girl pulled back, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “My mom told me something else, too. The police didn’t want it to get out. Supposedly, all the missing people had a palindrome for a name.”
“Palindrome?” her friend asked.
The first girl nodded. “When a name mirrors itself. Like Anna, or…” they twisted around, meeting Elle’s eyes. The first girl smirked and turned back to her friend group, speaking so quietly that Elle could hardly hear her. “Elle,” she finished.
Her friends swiveled around to look at Elle, who flushed at the sudden attention, pretending not to listen.
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It was too late; the game was up.
The other two girls commended, explaining that they had heard something similar, though they didn’t know the term, as the first girl placed a palm on the table, standing up abruptly. She stalked over to loom above Elle. “You were listening,” she stated. She didn’t seem bothered by the fact, and her eyes held a wicked gleam.
Knowing she was caught, Elle nodded slowly. A fake sympathetic look crossed the girl's face. “You’re the new transfer student, Elle, right?”
Nervous, Elle nodded again.
The girl raised her hand to her face in mock horror. “You poor thing! Your parents didn't know about the monster haunting our town, did they? Must be terrible. Every adult here knows the rumors and wouldn’t dare give their kids a palindrome. It’s interesting, you know? Ever since my mom’s generation, only outsiders like you have gone missing.”
She leaned forward, her lips nearly brushing Elle’s ear. “Watch out for the mirrors, Elle. It would be so sad if you were to go missing, too, wouldn’t it?” She pulled away, smug, to walk back to the cruel smiles of her friends.
Elle looked back down at her food, her dirty blonde hair slipping forward to cover her face. The words had been kind on the surface; the intention behind them was anything but. She’d let Elle know in no uncertain terms that she’d be happy if Elle went missing, too.
The joke was on her. Elle wasn’t sure about the palindrome issue–maybe a serial kidnapper had a thing for that?--but she did know that there was nothing supernatural going on. Tales with monsters like these were tales of fiction. A mirror couldn’t eat someone, no matter how much that girl wanted it to be true. People were the real monsters.
That night, Elle arrived home to her mother hastily covering the mirror in their entryway with a bedsheet. Elle let her backpack slip to the floor in the doorway, sprinting and sliding the extra feet across the slick wooden floor. “What are you doing?!”
Her mother’s hands froze above the mirror, the sheet slipping to reveal Elle’s baffled reflection. A dark shadow caught Elle’s eye, and she blinked. It didn’t reappear.
“I’m sure you heard the rumors,” her mom said, flexing her fingers and snatching the fallen fabric corner up. Elle’s reflection disappeared beneath the sheet.
“About the missing woman? Is that why you’re covering the mirrors?”
“Everyone at work seemed really worried. All covering up or tossing out their mirrors. And you’re–” she stopped short, biting her lip.
“Don’t be stupid! That’s just some fairytale these country bumpkins tell their kids! It’s like Santa! Not real!”
“Now, Elle,” her mother soothed, her hands tightening on the cloth, “I’m just worried about you.”
Elle rolled her eyes. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you throw them in the trash?”
Her mother’s eyes darted to the door contemplativly at that, looking like it wasn’t out of the question.
Elle tossed her hands and stomped away, aiming for her backpack. “Seriously?” She raised her voice so her father, who she could hear washing dishes in the kitchen, could hear as she snatched her books. “Why are you letting her do this? Whatever monster she’s afraid of isn’t real!”
She brushed past her mom, expecting to see hurt. Instead, Elle saw her own frustration mirrored back at her.
“What’s the harm?” her dad asked as she entered the kitchen. “Besides,” he muttered as he dumped the pasta into the boiling water, “I never liked them anyway.”
Elle’s hands clenched over her backpack strap. “This is dumb. But whatever.”
As she opened the door to her room, her mother said, “Thank you. I’m just worried about her.”
She paused in the doorway, listening for her father’s response. She heard them give each other a chaste kiss-gross- then he said, “I know. But she’s not wrong.”
“Is it worth the risk? Everyone is just so worried, and I–”
Elle shut the door behind her, letting her backpack slip to the floor. This whole thing was stupid. Did that mean no mirrors in the bathroom? How was she supposed to get ready in the morning?
She dropped onto her bed, reclining to look at the mirror facing her bed. She debated getting up to take it down herself, then thought, if mom wants it gone, she can get it herself.
A shadow crossed the mirror, catching her eye. Elle hopped out of bed with a frown, moving to inspect the mirror. Was there a giant spider on her wall? She wouldn’t put it past this new house to be infested with them.
Her reflection faced her, and Elle noticed a pimple. Leaning forward to give it a closer look, she crossed her eyes, not seeing the dark figure until it was too late.
Her own hands reached out to her, grabbing her arms and yanking her through the mirror before she had time to shout.
A knock pounded on her door. “Elle?”
No one was there to answer.