The Long Face in the Glass

The car crunched over the gravel driveway of my grandparents’ farmhouse, and I watched the taillights vanish down the dirt road, leaving us in the deep country silence. My mom and dad were off to some sunny beach for a week, and my siblings, Toby (ten) and little Ember (three), and I were left with Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Joe. I was fifteen, and the only thing making this bearable was that my cousin Nora, also fifteen, was staying here for the summer. We had plans to explore the old barn, maybe find some relics from Grandpa’s youth, and just talk for hours like we always did.

The house was ancient, with creaky floorboards and a smell of mothballs and dust. Grandma made us lunch around noon, and we all squeezed around the small kitchen table. I sat next to Ember, who had a habit of chattering about imaginary things. Behind us was the back door, with a small window that showed a slice of the overgrown backyard. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching from that window. I kept glancing over my shoulder, but there was nothing there, just the swaying of tall grass and the old oak tree.

In the middle of our soup, Ember started crying, her little face scrunched up. I asked what was wrong, and she pointed at the door, whimpering, ‘There’s a monster at the door.’ I tried to calm her, saying it was just the wind, but she insisted, begging to eat in the living room. Grandma picked her up, and as she carried her away, I asked Ember what the monster looked like. She whispered, ‘An ugly woman with long black hair and a face like a horse.’ I froze. A chill ran down my spine because two nights before, I had a dream that I was lying in bed in Toby’s room, staring at the closet mirror, and in the reflection, there was a gaunt figure with stringy black hair, her face elongated, cheekbones sharp, and eyes like black pits. She just stared at me.

I didn’t mention the dream to anyone, but I couldn’t shake the image. After lunch, I found Nora on the porch, and we decided to walk to the abandoned well at the edge of the property. The sun was high, but the air felt cool. We talked about school, boys, anything to distract me. But as we passed the old barn, I noticed a window on the upper floor, and for a split second, I thought I saw a pale face pressed against the grimy glass. I stopped, but when I looked again, it was gone.

That evening, Grandpa told us stories about the farm’s history, how it was built over a century ago, and that a previous owner’s wife had gone mad and drowned herself in the well. They never found her body. He laughed it off as a local legend, but I saw Grandma give him a warning glance. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I was staying in the spare room at the end of the hall, with a window that overlooked the backyard. I lay in bed, listening to the wind, when I heard a faint tapping on the glass. I turned, and there she was, her face pressed against the window, her long hair plastered over her features, her eyes wide and white. I screamed, and she vanished.

I ran to the hall, and Nora burst out of her room. She saw my face and asked what happened. I told her, and she grew pale. She said she had seen her too, in the mirror of the bathroom, just for a second. We decided to investigate. Armed with flashlights, we crept downstairs and out the back door. The grass was tall, and the moon cast long shadows. We approached the well, its stone edge moss-covered. I peered down, and the darkness seemed to stare back. Suddenly, Ember was behind us, in her nightgown, her eyes wide. She said, ‘She’s in there. She wants us to come down.’ We grabbed her and ran back inside.

The next morning, we told Grandma and Grandpa everything. Grandpa sighed, and Grandma admitted that the legend was true, but there was more. The woman had been a witch, cursed to haunt the land until she was given a child. My dream, Ember’s sighting, it all pointed to her. They had moved here to escape the city, but the curse followed them. They had hoped the new generation would break it, but it had latched onto Ember.

That night, as we huddled in the living room, the lights flickered. A cold draft swept through, and the back door swung open. There she stood, tall and gaunt, her hair swirling as if in water. She pointed a long, bony finger at Ember. ‘You will join me,’ she hissed. I stepped forward, shouting, ‘No! Take me instead!’ Her eyes locked onto mine, and she smiled, revealing blackened teeth. ‘So be it.’ And she reached out, her hands like claws, wrapping around my arm. I felt an icy coldness seep into my bones, and everything went dark.

I woke up in the hospital, my parents and siblings around me. They said I had been found unconscious by the well, and they had taken me to town. I asked about Nora, Toby, Ember, and they said they were fine, but when I looked in the mirror, I saw that my reflection was not mine. It was her, the long-faced woman, staring back at me. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. And in the mirror, she smiled.