Mary Worth

“I think we should have a seance,” Amber said.

“What’s that?” I asked uneasily.

“It’s where you talk to dead people, to ghosts,” she replied.

“Talk to ghosts?” My voice shook.

“Yeah,” Courtney chimed in. “Sleepovers are the best time to talk to spirits. The spirits are more receptive late at night. I hear midnight’s the best time. And it’s almost midnight now.”

“Yeah,” Amber giggled. “And we can’t talk about boys all night.”

“Why not?” I tried to keep my voice light.

 I would much rather talk about boys than talk to ghosts, even if boys make me nervous. It’s highly unlikely I’ll have a boyfriend anytime in the near future. Whenever l’m around a cute boy, I get really tongue tied and can’t think of one single intelligent thing to say. The very thought of talking to ghosts, however, is even worse. It scares me half to death. 

I’m not like the other girls. They’re used to both boys and scary stuff. They probably have been to dozens of sleepovers where they talk to ghosts. More sleepovers than they can count. But this is a first for me. I guess you could say I’ve led a sheltered life.

You see I’ve been homeschooled up to the seventh grade and haven’t had much of a social life. The only sleepovers I’ve ever gone to have been with my cousins, most of the time at my grandma’s house. The wildest thing we’ve ever done is to play Monopoly until ten o’clock, eat too many chocolate chip cookies, and drink Dr. Pepper until our stomachs hurt. My parents are very strict, church going people. I’m sure they would probably say that talking to ghosts is like talking to the devil. They don’t even believe in Halloween. 

On Halloween, all of the other kids in my neighborhood dress up in cool costumes and go trick or treating. But not me. I have to stay inside and picture all the other kids walking all over town in the dark dressed up as witches and vampires – some of them staying out very late all alone, not even with their parents. They always come back from trick or treating with loads of yummy candy. The kind of candy my parents never let me eat. Candy that is sure to cause a zillion cavities or zits.When it comes to trick or treating, however, not only am I not allowed to go out, but our house doesn’t even have its porchlight on. This is the sign that trick or treaters are not welcome. No, our house is not what you call a fun house. 

I don’t know why my parents don’t believe in Halloween. I think they somehow associate it with the devil. I think it’s a neat holiday. Besides getting oodles of candy, you get to dress up as all sorts of things. You don’t even have to dress up as anything scary if you don’t want to. I’ve always wanted to be a Disney princess, in a sparkly poofy dress with a jeweled crown on my head. Or a gypsy fortune teller with a glittering turban, huge hoop earrings, a long flowing skirt, and heavy eye makeup – all things my parents would never let me wear. 

Amber suddenly interrupted my swirling thoughts. 

“What’s the matter? Are you scared, Rebecca?” 

I felt my face redden. 

“No, I’m not scared,” I protested. “I just think boys are more interesting to talk about.” I tried to act nonchalant, reaching for an Oreo cookie.

“We could play truth or dare!” Courtney suggested.

“Good idea!” Amber said. “Who wants to go first?”

“I think Rebecca should go first,” Courtney said. “She’s the one who doesn’t want to talk to ghosts, so this is kind of her idea.”

“Ok, I’ll go first,” I said, trying to be a joiner. At least, the discussion of ghosts had stopped for the moment.

“What do you want, a truth or a dare?” Amber asked. “I’ll think of a truth, and Courtney’ll think of a dare,” she said. “Which one do you want?”

“I’ll take a dare,” I was afraid to pick truth. I was afraid that, for her truth question, Amber would ask me who I liked. I would then be forced to tell her I had a crush on Brandon, who I was pretty sure Amber also liked.

 Amber is a hundred times prettier than me, with her long blonde hair and dope clothes. I would kill to have both her hair and her wardrobe. Brandon probably already likes her. All the boys seem to like Amber. She’s kind of what you call a queen bee, definitely one of the most popular girls in our class. Everyone wants to be like her. I guess I should be honored that she invited me to her sleepover. I always imagined she thought I was a nerd.

Not only that, but I should be glad that my parents let me come over to her house. They don’t even know Amber’s parents. They don’t go to our church. I think my parents desperately want me to fit in at school, so they decided to let me come, no matter Amber’s family’s beliefs. My parents must be afraid I wouldn’t make any friends or something. They must know how important this sleepover is to my social life. 

And because this sleepover is so important, I don’t want to mess anything up. I don’t want the other girls to think I’m a baby. I’m a little afraid of what Courtney’s dare might be, but it seems the better option, the lesser of two evils. A truth is a truth, and I really don’t know Amber and Courtney all that well. I’m not sure I want them to know my truths, and it isn’t in me to lie. My dad always says that lying is breaking one of the Ten Commandments. It’s a mortal sin, according to him. If I lie, I’ll probably go straight to Hell. Ghosts are scary enough. I don’t want to think about Hell too. 

“Okay,” Courtney thought for a moment. “For my dare, I dare you to turn off the lights and try to summon the spirit of Mary Worth. Amber and I’ll help you.”

“Who’s Mary Worth?” I asked fearfully.

“You don’t know who Mary Worth is?” Amber sounded dumbfounded.

“No,” I said in a small voice. Was Mary Worth someone I was supposed to know?

“Every sleepover I’ve been to lately, we try to talk to Mary Worth. She’s this dead lady and we talk to her ghost.” Amber explained.

“It’s just a thing that people do during sleepovers,” Courtney added. “It’s pretty scary, but a lot of fun.”

“There’s a certain way of doing it,” Amber explained. “If you don’t do it right, she won’t appear and talk to you.”

“How do you do it? How do you talk to her?” I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I really wanted to know, but at the same time, I was very curious. 

“Well, you have to talk to her at the ‘witching hour.’” Courtney made air quotes with her fingers around the words ‘witching hour.’

“The witching hour is when the clock strikes midnight,” she continued. “And to talk to Mary Worth, the whole room has to be dark except for one candle lit in the center of the table.”

Amber picked up where Courtney left off, saying, “Mary Worth only appears in a mirror. You sit in front of the candle and look into a hand held mirror. You call for her, saying ‘Mary Worth, bloody bones, come to me, heed my call . . . “ Amber’s voice was low and spooky. I felt a shiver go down my spine.

“You really have to believe,” Courtney added. “Mary Worth won’t appear for unbelievers.” 

“Do you believe?” Amber asked solemnly. “Are you willing to give it a try? It’s almost midnight.”

I forced myself to not sound rattled. It took all of my willpower to stop my voice from shaking. “Sure, why not?” 

I glanced surreptitiously at my watch. Ten more minutes till midnight.

“I need to use the bathroom, excuse me a minute.” I didn’t want to pee my pants in fright. Who knew what was about to happen. Not only that, but I also needed to collect myself and gather my thoughts.

We were in Amber’s basement which had two large couches and wall to wall carpeting. It was a cozy place for a sleepover and it gave us a lot of privacy away from nosy parents. Plus we had our own large screen TV and bathroom. I entered the bathroom and turned on the water faucet and splashed some cold water on my face. I really needed some color in my face. I was as white as Mary Worth’s ghost must be. My eyes also looked shadowed and worried. I really needed to lighten up. My face surely reflected my terror. As I solemnly looked in the mirror, I remembered Amber’s words. Mary Worth only appeared in the mirror. I shivered once again, feeling suddenly glad I was in a brightly lit room. Even so, I didn’t feel like looking into the mirror. Who knew what I might find looking back at me?

I finally collected myself and rejoined the other girls. 

“We better hurry up,” Amber said. “We only have five minutes. We have to light the candle and I need to run upstairs to my bedroom and grab my mirror.”

“I’ll light the candle,” Courtney offered.

“Cool,” Amber said. “Be back in just a sec.” 

She bounded up the stairs and returned in no time flat with her mirror.

It was an old fashioned mirror with a long gold handle and a decorative back, patterned in mother of pearl. Courtney had managed to light the candle, which rested in the center of the low, wooden coffee table. We sat around the table with our knees on the floor of the thick carpet. For once, everyone was quiet, absorbing the solemnity of the occasion. It wasn’t everyday that one talked to the dead, after all. The thick, squat candle’s lavender fragrance, which was surely meant to be relaxing, did nothing to calm my frazzled nerves. Amber had turned off the lights. All I could see, around the candle’s flickering glow, were brief outlines of the other girl’s faces and the mirror resting on the table in front of me where Amber had carefully placed it. 

Amber picked up her cell phone and squinted at its screen.

“It’s time!” She squealed. “Pick up the mirror, Rebecca.”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. I felt a huge lump in my throat. Nevertheless, I dutifully picked up the mirror.

“Now, look in the mirror and say the words,” she instructed. 

I remembered the words by heart. They were seared into my brain, but I was afraid to say them. My hand was sweaty on the handle of the mirror. I was suddenly afraid I might drop it. I felt myself tremble, and tried to keep my voice from shaking. Gathering up my courage in a tight ball inside me, I held the mirror in front of my face and looked deeply into it.

“Mary Worth! Bloody bones. Heed my call. We invite you to appear.” I waited a moment, staring intently into the mirror. Nothing happened. All was quiet and still in the room. “We are true believers and would like to summon you. Mary Worth, bloody bones . . .” I repeated, my voice at last trailing off.

When still nothing happened, I felt a burst of relief, My tense shoulders relaxed sIightly, though I continued to hold tightly to the mirror.

Suddenly, the candle went out. I shivered in fright. At the same time, I felt the temperature in the room drop, causing me to shiver even more.

“Mary Worth! Bloody bones . . . If you tell anyone where I am, I’ll get you!” The voice came from somewhere surrounding me. I was dumbfounded. The voice wasn’t Amber, nor Courtney, and it certainly wasn’t me. Mary Worth? Was she in the room announcing her terrifying self?

I suddenly gathered my courage and reached for the book of kitchen matches. I managed to once again light the candle with shaking hands and picked up the long handled mirror. Where I found my courage from, I’ll never know. I looked into the mirror once more. 

“Mary Worth! Bloody bones. Show me your face. Make your presence known,” I dared her in a sudden burst of spirit, surprising myself. 

Glancing once more into the mirror, I screamed suddenly as the reflection of an unearthly face materialized. An older woman with dark hair streaked with gray and burning coal black eyes stared back at me. As I looked deep into her eyes, her face suddenly streamed with blood, dripping down like a river. The face seemed then to all at once melt away, leaving nothing but a skull face staring back at me.

“Join me, my pretty,” the skull face said in a rasping voice.

“No! Never! Be gone, you have no power here!” I suddenly shouted, raising the mirror in triumph. I then slowly brought the mirror down, all the while continuing to look deeply into it. The skull face finally disintegrated. At the same time, the mirror shattered as if it exploding, breaking into a million tiny little pieces. A fine dusting of glass particles dusted the light colored carpet. I got to my feet, wincing as I stepped on a sharp shard of glass in my barefeet, and walked over towards the wall. I quickly flipped on the light switch, my heart beating wildly.

The room once again resumed its normal look, a cluttered mess at the moment with junk food, makeup, articles of clothing, and pillows and blankets scattered around. To my surprise, I noticed both Amber and Courtney were either sleeping or unconscious. They were lying still. I had a sudden crazy thought that they might both be actually dead, and not just dead to the world. Were they victims of Mary Worth’s quest for bloody bones? I bent down towards them where they lie, one on each couch. To my relief, both girls’ chests rose up and down slightly with the force of their light breathing. Both were peacefully sleeping. How they had fallen asleep during Mary Worth’s unearthly visit, I couldn’t fathom. Nonetheless, I envied them their unconscious state of oblivion.

I felt myself shiver once again, wondering how I was going to explain the broken mirror to them once they awoke. Had this been some sort of weird dream? Would the other two remember any of this? I pondered this as I spotted the mirror’s glass shards sparkling up at me.

Mary Worth was blessedly gone. I felt it in my bones, my perfectly normal strong, healthy bones. Not bloody ones. Who knew if Mary Worth would ever return again? I shivered once more.

Maybe staying home on a Saturday night, or playing Monopoly at my grandma’s house with my cousins wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The quest for popularity took too much out of me. Truth or dare? Next time I would take the truth.