The Superstition

Collab with DimsalDread

After an old superstition takes hold of her life, she begins to doubt her own reality and loses touch...what will she lose next?

"Look, mommy!" her daughter cried, pointing into the water.  A little white swan was floating along, its neck cocked at them at an odd angle.  Its beady black eyes glared at them, and as the little girl scurried closer, she realized that it wasn't exactly them in the reflection in the bird's eye.  Instead of their dog's leash locked in her grasp, her reflection was brandishing a long scythe, drops of dried blood lining the blade.  She wore a long, flowing crimson dress with wide sleeves rather than the short floral orange one she had put on that morning.  She watched her daughter's expression change as she saw her altered self, the little one's lip curling and tears springing to her eyes in fear.  What she saw was never known, but whatever it was caused her to become very, very ill...

Was it the absolute terror that caused her to have her fits every night since the occurrence, or was it mere chance?  Well, one thing was for certain, and that was the unmistakeable words she spoke exactly 13 days after she looked at her alter-ego before her death.  

"Don't let it change me," she rasped, her eyes like slits before fluttering and closing forever.  Her pale hands that had been clamped so tightly to Sir Tedsworth slackened, and the daughter of Sofia Fitzgerald moved no more.  

(She was only seven...how could they take her from me?  What had I done to her?  Why...why am I still alive, and she is not?  What did I do?)     

The End

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