Hey, is this thing on? Hello? Oh, hi there, everyone. The name's Akai Tanner, and today, I'm here to share my life-story. Now, I'm no Christopher Columbus nor Stanford Raffles- "That's right you aren't! So move aside, Tanner!" Wendy shouts, all of the sudden, shoving me aside and grabs my mike. By the way, that's my cousin over there, Wendy Tanner, a plump-sized blondie - a contradicting combination- "Plump-sized? I think the phrase you are searching for is a fat blondie! Tahahahahaha!" "AHEM! I'M STANDING RIGHT HERE!" "Gee, ya think the blocked out sun would've been a big clue-in for us." That's Jimmy 'Jim' Reckhon, a childhood bud of mine - or I guess it should be 'babyhood'. We've been together since we were in diapers, but that's nothing unusual among my other babyhood friends. But more on that another time. "No one wants to read some boring story about a pre-teen schoolkid failing on getting a girl he's been best buds with for the entirety of his life, Tanner. They want passion - and more importantly, fashion. I'm the very embodiment of cool and good storytelling." Uh huh. So, as I was narrating, I am none of those awesome fellows. I can't fly at hyper-speed or perform psychic levitation. I don't travel the world or catches snakes and spiders. I'm just me, ordinary and- "Boring. Pffhahahahaha!" "Why don't you pick on someone with the size of your ego, Wendeline?" "That's MISS WENDELINE TO YOU, BUSTER!" Ah, good ol' Violet. Long-haired. Brunette. Intelligent. Sweet. Athletic- "Oh PER-LEASE! Get a room, geez. You forgot to mention having a few hygienic issues, dumping her toe nail clippings off the second floor, CHEAP, meat-hating, pessimistic and - oh, speaking of which, don't get me started on how Akai met her. Talk about a total emo-" "Don'tcha' think you should keep that trap shut before you catch some filth in there? Oops, too late. Anyway, Akai, how could our lives be defined as simple as 'boring'? Don'tcha' remember what just happened the previous week to me, Tim, and Karen?" Oh, come on. Do you honestly expect me to believe something like that could happen to an aged old mirror filled with overly superstitious backgrounds? "Woo! Let's tell that story! I wanna read it again! Come on, come on, come on, come on, Akai, tell it, tell it, tell it!" Violet should tell it. I'm only the starter of this thread. Besides, she claimed to have 'experienced' it first-hand- "Wha- You hyphenated "experienced"! Why do you boys have to be so conceited?!" "We are boys. We have a huge head with big brains inside. Heh heh." "More like full of gas." Alright, Violet, let's hear it, then. I'm sure our audience is kept high on their toes by now. Let's read how it happened once again. "Okay. Here goes. Jim's twin sister, Timothea, Akai's little sister, Karen, and myself included, were spending our night at Tim's house for a sleepover. Things didn't go so well when we found her parents' old mirror." "I call this story..." The Monster in Tim's Mirror 1 "Down with boys!" I shouted, squirting the water pistol at Matthew's photograph. It was the second meeting of the ABC and we were all in the spare room at Timothea's place. Me, Violet Jingles. Tim. And Karen. We were going to sleep over at Tim's that night. Oh, sorry, I didn't tell you. ABC stands for the Anti-Boys Club and we started it to get our own back. Tim and I are in the same class at MiddleGram Middle School, and though Karen's two years younger than us, studying in LowerGram Elementary School, we all know the same boys whom we've hung out with together ever since we were feeding off milk bottles. We don't hate them - just annoyed by them, that's all. And the worst of the lot was Matthew Touchstone. He is so hideous! "But he is quite handsome," Karen pointed out. "Traitor!" Tim silenced her. "He thinks he's Gary Barlow!" "He could never be Gary Barlow!" I scoffed. "Well, which boys do you like?" Karen wanted to know. "Stop!" I was losing my patience. Sometimes, Karen's naivety gets to me. She's not stupid, just unknowledgeable. We only let her join the club just because Akai said she needed company from us girls. "In the Anti-Boys Club, you aren't allowed to like any boys. They're all nerds!" "Boys are nerds, boys are nerds!" chanted Tim. "Even my big brother whom you've replied to only every Christmas cards he sent you?" replied Karen, quite amused with herself. I, however, was not so amused, grinding my teeth as I stared into her eyes, causing her to stop giggling. We argued about boys a little more for a while with Karen until we all got bored. And that's when I noticed the strange package behind the cupboard. Tim and I had been prancing around, yelling and clapping, doing our Nerds-are-Nothing war dance. I couldn't help noticing the big, bulky shape sticking out. It was all wrapped up in brown paper and tied with red string. "What's that?" I asked. Why did I ever ask that question? It was the biggest mistake of my life! "I don't know," Tim shrugged. She went over and started to pull the package from behind the cupboard. Karen and I helped her. "It's heavy," Karen grunted. "Mum and Dad keep all kinds of junk in here," Tim explained. "Shall we open it?" Anything would be better than arguing with Karen, I thought. "Yes!" I shouted, untying the string. Soon, there was string all over the floor. We peeled away the brown paper. "Wow!" Karen gasped, wide-eyed. "A mirror!" "It's not very shiny." Tim turned down her mouth like she does when she eats fishballs. "It must be very old. Look at the frame..." I pointed to the woodwork, carved with flowers and cherries. The gold paint was chipped and worn off in places. "It looks pretty gross, actually," complained Tim. "Why do parents always keep old-fashioned stuff like this?" "It's seven years bad luck if you break a mirror," Karen told us. "No!" Tim laughed. "Yes!" Karen scowled. "My grandmother said so." And that's when I made the second biggest mistake of my life! "Let's take a look on the back," I suggested. "There might be something that tells us how old it is, or where it came from..." So we turned the mirror around, resting it against the cupboard. Sure enough, there was a little piece of paper stuck on the wooden backing. It had turned yellow with age. "What does it say, Violet?" Karen asked me. I squinted. The printing was very small, very hard to read. "It — it looks like a poem!" I shouted. Why, why did I have to read it? And why did I have to put on that silly, scary voice? I thought I was being so funny at the time! "Listen," I said, brushing away the dust. "Whoever gazes into me" "On the midnight hour," "Will themselves cease to be" "And fall within my power!"