The Fragility of Glass

This October, here’s an entry for the Official Kidlit Fall Writing Frenzy!

This competition is hosted by the talented Kaitlyn Leann Sanchez. Her blog, Math is Everywhere, follows her own writing journey and offers plenty of opportunities to connect with fellow authors.

The competition asked writers to select one image (see mine below) to inspire a 200-word story.

Thanks to Sara (@safajarwrites), a brilliant picture book author in my local writers group, for sharing this opportunity! I usually aim to scare adults… but kids love to be spooked too, right?

 

THE FRAGILITY OF GLASS

Etta’s grandmother left her Blackmoor Estate with only two instructions: “Leave it to rot. And leave the mirrors in place.” Etta promptly moved in. By evening, all seventy-four mirrors had been removed. All but one: a behemoth looking glass bolted to the ballroom’s wall.

Wind growled out the cold fireplace. Etta sniffed at the dank air. The crazed matriarch used to sit here for hours, muttering about—THUNK.

Etta jumped. An envelope fluttered free of the mirror’s golden frame. The letter inside bore familiar cursive…

My dearest Ettastine,

You must think me quite mad.
But I have entombed myself
within Blackmoor Estate
only to protect our bloodline.

We are hunted, dear Etta.

Some seventy eldritch creatures,
craving Blackmoor blood, nurse
upon the sinister energies
of these grounds—at great cost,
I’ve snared them within mirrors.

But should you be reading this,
I am dead. And you, stubborn girl,
have returned to Blackmoor.

I hope, at least, that you have heeded
my warning to retain the mirrors,
each a cage kept locked
by virtue of precise position.

If you have not, I only pray
the last great mirror remains
that you may have time to run.

With love,
Grenhilda Blackmoor

13 Comments

  1. I would love to hear the next chapter – as well as the prequel! You have clearly set a creepy scene. Well done and good luck with the contest!

    Like

  2. ooooh Etta, Etta Etta, didn’t your mama teach you ANYthing? Sometimes, it just pays to listen.
    Edgar Allen, please make some room. Here comes a colleague rap, rap, rapping at your door. You are not the only one whose stories will echo forevermore. forever more for ever more for ever

    Like

  3. Spooky cool! You tell an original and bone-tingling gothic tale in so few words, and the epistolary motif works so well. @AnneLipton

    Like

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