Sad and scary stories

You never know what will happen... Things come and out! Don’t make enemy’s, get weird/scary things and never do bad things and you’re okay.

[© 2017 All rights Reserved To Book Maker and Ninja Togepi]

Author's note


42. Double Mirrors

In response to the bitcrushed bell, Dakota flew down the staircase, her dress fluttering behind her. Once grounded she made straight for the front door, behind which she knew would be her new roommate. 

At least, so she had hoped. Dakota had never met this person before, nor had the two even spoken a word to each other. No, her best friend, Mandy, was the mastermind behind it all, the puppet master pulling the strings. Mandy was the type of person who had the connections, knew this town's community and its inhabitants like the back of her hand. If someone has a problem, they have her on speed-dial. Meaning, when a friend needs a roommate, and a cousin needs a place to live, never fear, because Mandy's got it covered. 

Dakota hadn't even raised a finger. In a new record of three-and-a-half minutes she had a name, and her roommate had an address. 

That had been yesterday, and now it was three o'clock, on the dot. 

Dakota unlocked and opened the door. In its place she found a young lady of a shorter stature. wearing a Cindy Lauper t-shirt and ripped jeans. She smiled.

"Hello! Are you Dakota Flanning?" 

"Yes I am!" Dakota extended a hand. "And you must be Rachel!" 

The lady locked a manicured hand with hers. "Yes! It's so nice to meet you! Mandy's told me so much about you!" 

Dakota smirked. "Should I be scared then?" 

The two of them laughed, as you do, and Dakota invited Rachel inside. They stood in the foyer and raised their heads to take a gander at the place, as if they were sneaking a gulp of air before diving deep. The entrance rose to a height of two stories and was painted a flawless white, as the skylight poured over the afternoon sun in a stream of radiance. 

"Wooow," Rachel breathed. "This is so nice!" She looked over to Dakota. "But...I don't know how to say this... but Mandy told me the rent was..." 

Dakota nearly laughed. "I know," she said with a nod. "And trust me, it is cheap. It doesn't look like it, but I promise ya, this place is a steal. Only $500 a month—" Rachel gasped "—Though I'm hoping to keep that on the down-low, in case it was a paperwork mistake." 

Rachel winked. "Gotcha." And with a reawakening sigh she clapped her light brown hands together. "So! Shall we begin the tour?" 

"Oh! Yes!" Dakota had nearly forgotten, as she was concentrating so hard on keeping her voice steady. She was not so proficient in smalltalk, but already she was doing so well. She knew she could do this, as she made her way toward the living room. "Follow me." 

Her roommate did just that. 

"Now, this place is actually a bit old," she began her whole spiel, "although I can't find anyone who knows anything about the owner before. Except, that they had great taste in decor..." 


"And up here," Dakota commenced, once after revealing the entirety of the first floor, "are the bedrooms."

Her bare feet slapped against the wooden staircase that traced the circumference of the foyer. "It's just two rooms and a bathroom, and a kinda-towel closet." 

"Kinda?" Rachel reiterated from behind, about to step upon the first stair. 

"'Kinda' because it doesn't look like one," Dakota clarified. "There's no shelves or pole for hangers or anything. I just stack towels in there." She chuckled. "Not very handy with a hammer, if ya know what I mean." 

"Nah, I gotcha. I mean, if it's alright, I'm pretty savvy with tools. I can always install something in there."

"Oh! That would be so nice!" Dakota chuckled as before. "If you want while you're at it, you can mess with those hinges. I cannot get them to stop squealing. It like I'm being hunted by a banshee every time I need a towel!" 

The accumulation of both her and Rachel's body weights made them sound more like the rusty windmill of an abandoned ranch. The two of them had to raise their voices ever so slightly in order to get their points across. 

"Man, these stairs," Rachel lamented with a laugh. "If one of us wants a snack in the middle of the night, that's gonna be a problem." 

"Yeah, I know. That's a renovation I wouldn't put upon anyone, least of all my roommate! Though check it: if you step near to the wall it doesn't creak as much." She shifted herself to the right to prove her point, and sure enough with every step nary a creak was heard. 

"Ah, nice," Rachel commended, and followed suit. 

They rather silently arrived at the top, and Dakota pointed with both hands to both rooms. "So, mine's the one on the left," she said. "I just sorta left the other one alone, so there's nothing but some furniture that the owner left. But you're free to take it!" 

Rachel's eyes lit up, and she advanced immediately to the door. She opened it to find just as she'd been told: a queen-sized bed with a white comforter, a wooden dresser, and a simple mirror that hung above it. 

"I know, right?" Dakota chimed, as they made their way into the room. "The realtor said that the house just came with the furniture. No one claimed it or anything. I'm telling ya it's a miracle!" 

Her jubilation might have fallen upon deaf ears, as Rachel wandered about the room, examining every feature that she couldn't have seen from afar. 

But Dakota kept talking, as is customary of her nerves. "But yeah, if you wanna redecorate or get more furniture and stuff, you can." 

Rachel raised a faux grin. "Alright," she said, and looked into the mirror. She examined every feature upon herself, her deep brown eyes and lengthy dark hair. Then, she nonchalantly raised her hand, and touched a finger to the glass. After glancing so quickly Dakota had barely seen it, she then stared. 

To most, this may have been jarring, and subject to reluctant questioning. But surprisingly enough, Dakota was aware of what exactly Rachel was doing: she was checking for double-mirrors.

Sure, it's a bit insensitive to be accused of perverted snooping, but she understood the concern. If she were her, she would have done the same thing. She might have even ordered some of that nail polish that she had seen one time on Instagram, that changes colors when dipped into a drink that has been drugged. In fact, she was quite relieved that her roommate was mindful as well as cautious, and unashamed to show it. Good on her. 


Rachel jumped. 

"That's the room! I guess there's no need to look at mine, and the closet's just a closet. So I guess we're done!" 

She forced her body still, and a smile upon her face. "Y—yeah, I guess so." 

Dakota payed the change in mood no mind, and turned to walk out of the room, naturally assuming that Rachel was close behind. 

"So, whadaya think?" she asked, excitement bubbling in her voice. 

She waited for a reply, and received one after an unwarranted pause. "It's really nice," wavered from behind. 

Dakota declined the staircase, perhaps a bit too hurriedly due to her joy. "Dude, I'm seriously pumped!" she said. "It'll be nice to have someone else staying here! Gets a li'l creepy living alone." She looked back to view a response, and at the turn Rachel switched her terrified clenched teeth into a smile. 

Dakota internally cringed. She had been suspecting before, but now it was official. Rachel was totally weirded out. She wanted to kick herself. Why did she always do this? Why couldn't she just stay collected and normal for five seconds without reverting into a merry psychopath? 

Well, maybe she could fix this. Yeah! She was mature. She could be sophisticated. What did she have that was mature and sophisticated? 

As Dakota touched down on ground level, her eyes lit up. She spun around on a dime. "You know what?" she spoke, trying to compose her grin. 

Rachel froze on the staircase, her face seeming to go white. 

"I have a bottle of wine that my aunt sent me for my birthday, and I haven't opened it yet." Her heart was pounding out of her chest. "Would you like a glass?" 

Rachel seemed to contemplate this longer than necessary. "I mean, that sounds lovely," she stuttered. "B—but I don't want to impose. That seems like something for a special occasion." 

"Of course!" Dakota declared. "And how is this not a special occasion? We're about to be living together; that's something to celebrate, right?" 

Again, Rachel considered, and it was the longest five seconds of Dakota's life. It was all the time she needed to pull apart everything she had said, and realize what she should have said. She had sounded so very rash and overexcited. But in her panicked state, it was the only things she could think to say. And it was too late to reword and revise. 

"Sure," Rachel conceded in spite, and Dakota breathed. "That actually sounds really nice right now." 

Dakota agreed to that, but she acted otherwise. "Great! I'll go grab it!" She turned the other way and walked into the next room, the kitchen. As rapidly as she could she reached in the cabinet for two wine glasses, and then scanned the counter for where she had left the wine. She found it near the end, and took it in her free hand. She glanced at the label: Tu es à Moi 1994. She didn't know a lick of French, and she had never heard of this brand. But it was a birthday gift after all. Why would her aunt send her cheap wine for such an occasion? 

Not to say that she knew this aunt well. In fact, she'd never met Lorraine before. Dakota looked to the note strung around the neck of the bottle: Happy Birthday, Dakota Darling! With Love, Auntie Lorraine Perkins. She pondered. Perhaps they had come across each other at a reunion, or had once been introduced when she was a child. But she had to be an aunt surely, for she had her mother's maiden name, and she obviously knew her birth year. A thoughtful touch, really. 

Dakota turned back around, expecting Rachel to be there, and then was dumbfounded by her absence. So quickly, she twisted her corkscrew into the top, emitting a pop that made her jump. This situation was starting to get to her now. 

She took the two wine glasses in one hand and moved the celebration back into the foyer. "You ever heard of this brand?" she called as Rachel came back into view, still standing beside the collage of photographs bordered in frames, with a circle-mirror at the center. Dakota squinted down at the wine bottle and knitted her brow. "Too-es-a-moyee?" 

She adverted her gaze and slowed her step, at how fidgety Rachel had become. 

"N—no," she exhaled. "Doesn't sound familiar." 

Dakota handed her a glass, while glimpsing at her spazzy expression in bafflement every second or two. 

"Well, hopefully it's good," she laughed, hoping to tear the tension. Yet as she began to pour Rachel a fair portion, the tension turned out to be chain male. 

So Dakota did the only thing she could: just keep talking. 

"I really am looking forward to having a roommate. And I know that perhaps I'm a little too excited. But, I'm gonna be honest, it sucks living alone."

Rachel swirled her wineglass, dipping a finger inside.

"Not only is it kinda lonely, but you feel like your being watched all the time." Dakota began to pour herself a glass—perhaps too generous of a glass. She just really didn't want to lock eye contact with Rachel. She didn't want to see how terrified she must look. 

You are such an idiot! You're nothing but a child! 

But alas, she had made herself as full a glass as it could hold, and forced herself to look back up. "So," she blurted. "Cheers, I gue—" 

Dakota was right. 

Rachel looked as if she had just seen a ghost. Her mouth hung open and eyes went wide. The wineglass dangled precariously from her four glossy black fingers, with the pastel pink index raised just so.  

In an instant, the front door swung open, and her roommate was gone. She had left her wineglass where it was, however, and it crashed down upon the floor below. Dakota was left standing amongst the broken glass, her feet soaked in fermented grape juice. 

And she stood there for a while it seemed. Until she let herself lean against the wall, and her emotions take over. Allowed the tears to fall, her throat to gasp in misery, her eyes to press shut so tightly it pained her head. She had scared away a companion. She had done it once again. That was all she ever did. It was all she was good for. Why did she think today would be different? How could she ever believe she could change? What was wrong with her? 

"What is wrong with me?!" she wailed between sobs. Dakota hated this feeling. It hurt so bad. She wanted it to stop. She needed to make it stop. 

Dakota lifted that glass to her lips, and practically bit down upon the rim. As if she would die otherwise she forced the wine down her throat, yearning to ease the pain. 

It wasn't until half of it was tomorrow's business, that she realized... 

It tasted repulsive! 

Dakota sprayed what was left against the opposite wall, speckling the white in grotesque deep red. In her episode of panic her wineglass plummeted as well, and it added atop the no man's land. She wiped her mouth with her wrist as she trudged into the kitchen, minding her contribution to the mess. 

She had left her cellphone upon the counter, and she slammed the bottle in its place. 

Dakota was in shambles. It was happening again. 

She needed her mom. 

A few tones later that lovely voice that eased her sorrow came through. "Hey, Sweetie! What's up?" 

Dakota sniffed as she leaned over the marbletop. "Mom, I need you to come here." 

"Dakota, what's wrong? You're crying." 

She brushed back her bangs. "Yeah, I need you to come over. Please." 

"Of course," the voice panted. "I'm already in the car." 

Dakota sighed relief. Her eyes traveled elsewhere, and landed upon the wine bottle. Irritation flooded over her. 

"And next time you see Aunt Lorraine, tell her that was a dirty trick." 

There was a pause. 

"What was that, Sweetie?" 

This was not settling her mind. "I said when you see Aunt Lorraine tell her—" 

"Who's Aunt Lorraine?" 

There was another pause. 

"Dakota, I said who's Aunt Lorraine?" 

Still a pause.

"Dakota answer me!" 

Her ringtone sounded in her ear, and she removed it to read the name. It was Mandy. 

"Um, Mom," she wavered. "I need to call you back." 

"Dakota! Tell me—" 

Dakota wasn't listening to her, as she'd already dropped her call. 


And so another voice came through, although not as lulling as her mother's. 

"You have some explaining, Dakota!" she shrieked. "Rachel is over here bawling! What is going on?!" 

Dakota's breath picked up. "W—w—" she struggled to speak. "W—what happe—" 

"You're a damn pervert!" Mandy commenced. "She told me you have double mirrors everywhere!" 

She felt as if her heart was about to rip from her chest.  

"And you tried to drug her! Her nail polish changed color in the wine you gave her! I can't believe you! Is this some kind of sick joke?!" 

Dakota stumbled out of the kitchen and back into the foyer. She suddenly felt so weak. 

"Dakota! Answer me right now!" 

She let out a scream through the surmounting haze, as a shard of glass sank into her foot.

She had to leave now. 

But she needed to see.

Dakota stepped upon the edge of her foot and forced herself forward, until she stood before that mirror amongst her family photos. 

And she touched a weary finger to the glass. 

She prayed so very hard that there would be that distinct gap between her finger and the reflection. This had to be a prank. Rachel had to be in on it. Mandy had taken it too far. 

It was as if her doppelganger were standing in an open window, mimicking her every movement. Down to even touching her counterpart, skin to skin. 

Dakota covered her mouth with that hand and leaned against the wine-speckled wall, staring into the mirror that was much more. 


She lifted the phone to her ear. Her sobs carried over to her infuriated friend. 

"H—help me," she whimpered. 

In that moment, it seemed everyone's mind clicked simultaneously. 

"Please, my darling. Don't be frightened." 

Her cellphone fell to the ground.

Dakota would have screamed if she had had the strength, at the muffled voice that had come through the wall. 

"I only wanted to get to know you." 

Immediately she made as much haste as she could to advance through the foyer, and cried as she recalled the glass in her foot the hard way. 

"I've been watching you for so long, Dakota. You are just so beautiful." 

As if she did this all the time, she ripped the shard from her foot in a flash. 

"Please! Just wait!" 

Her bare feet mustered the pain as they limped toward the front door, leaving a trail of crimson footprints in her wake. She hadn't the will to make note of those banshee hinges. 

"I did this for us! Don't you understand?!" 

The words and creaks bounced about the foyer and faded out in her ears. She could barely stay upright. 

"We were destined to be together!" 

With what remained of her strength she slung her arm toward the outer door. 

It never met with any glass. 

She would have sworn she had been hit by a bus, if not for the obvious press of rough hands upon her body. Her figure hit the floor, and her head bounced against the wood. 

"I want you so badly." His breath was hot against her face. "I want you all to myself. You are mine." 

His features morphed into a cloudy blob. 

Dakota couldn't hold out any longer. 

"And no lousy roommate is going to keep you from me." 

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