The girls’ toilets were the best place to avoid PE lessons and the odd double maths period. Here Nettie could read, sing in the tiled echo chamber, attempt new hairstyles and, best of all, try to figure how many times she was reflected in the mirrors on opposite walls. It was impossible to count, each iteration was smaller than the last. The opposing mirrors made a thing of wonder for Nettie. If she waved, all the Netties did the same, exact but diminished.
At home Nettie tried the same effect with two of her bedroom mirrors. It was less stunning than the school arrangement and Nettie’s friends weren’t awestruck. Their main concern was the amount of time Nettie spent in front of her mirrors.
‘Come on Nettie, let’s go out for a walk and get some chips.’
Suzie, the best mate, rarely failed to get a response to the chips lure.
‘Nah, I got loads of homework to finish . You go and enjoy my share’.
Nettie was determined to spend time alone with her beloved mirrors. Her mother put her head round the door.
‘You OK Netts? We don’t see much of you these days. Are you sure it’s right to spend so long admiring yourself in the mirror? People might think you’re getting vain. ’
‘Mum you don’t understand. I’m not looking at me. Look at all the reflections stretching back, each one is the same as the others but smaller. It’s just really interesting’.
‘Hm very interesting. What’s that bit of green? Is it a mark on the mirror? I’ll get a cloth’
Netty had seen this green blob before but hadn’t wanted to think about something spoiling the perfectly diminishing mirror images. Now a green hand seemed to wave before disappearing: couldn’t be. It was definitely time to catch up with the gang at the chip shop; time to get her life back.
Full of chips and friendship chatter, Nettie decided to get ready for bed and catch up on her reading. Passing between the two mirrors she was very aware that the green blob had moved forward. Was it trapped between images? It was now just three reflections away from the actual mirror and seemed much bigger. Well of course it was bigger, the nearer you got to the real mirror the bigger things appeared.
Slowly the idea began to dawn that Green Blob wasn’t a reflection. It was something trying to move through reflections until…until it got to her mirror…and then what would….
‘Aaahhhhh. Mum. Come and help me I’m scared’.
Nettie’s piercing scream summoned her mother rapidly. She took in the Blob’s systematic climb forward, realized it could well be a malign force, grabbed a pot of hand cream and smashed it into the mirror.
Whilst the two hugged tightly, neither noticed an amorphous blob of green ectoplasm slide away under the door.
Of course, Nettie stopped hiding from PE lessons and double maths. Mirrors were never mentioned and neither were Green Blobs.
