It all happened in the summer of 1973 at the lake house in Canandaigua, New York. When I was a young kid, I used to spend every summer there and it was my favorite place in the world. I cannot recall the exact date, but it was a Saturday. I remember the events that happened that day like it was yesterday…
I woke up early that morning, feeling the sun shining on my face through the sheer curtains hanging from the window above my bed. The warmth of the bed sheets was comforting, but I had made plans to meet with my friends Sam and Clara to explore around the lake, which was close to town.
At this point in time we did not have cell phones quite yet but luckily, we made plans the night before and I was expecting them to come over to my house in the morning. Mom had made her classic buttermilk pancakes for breakfast so I enjoyed a few with a glass of milk before I went outside to wait for them. While I was waiting on the porch, I spotted Samuel and Clara having what seemed to be a serious conversation as they approached the house.
Sam was the adventurous one of the group and always had this particularly infectious enthusiasm that led us into many adventures and sometimes trouble. But life is that way sometimes. You cannot have one without the other. Clara on other hand, was always the level headed, more rational one who was always worried. But nevertheless she was a part of the group and her opinion was greatly valued. She saved us from quite a few precarious situations in the past. So, regardless of whatever we decided to partake in, we always discussed it with her and all three of us had to agree upon it.
“Hey, Greg!” Sam called out as they reached the gate. “You’re not going to believe what Clara just told me.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “What’s the news?”
Clara looked around, as if to ensure that no one else was listening and then as she lowered her voice, she said, “Have you ever heard of Bloody Mary?”
I thought for a second, trying to recall where I’d heard the name. “Isn’t that some sort of drink for adults?”
Samuel laughed, “No, dummy. It’s a ghost! You chant her name in front of a mirror, and she’s supposed to appear behind you.”
My skepticism must’ve been evident because Clara quickly added, “My cousin from North Carolina tried it. He said it’s real and that it was really scary!”
“Well, I’ve got that old mirror in the attic,” I suggested, half-jokingly, “Want to give it a try?”
“We will also need a candle, and it needs to be really dark when we do this,” Clara said. “Luckily for us, I brought one!”
We all looked at each other for a second. I knew we had plans for that day, but the prospect of calling a ghost and communicating with another realm of existence was quite intriguing. Sam had a weird smirk on his face, I knew by that look what his answer would be. Clara brought the candle. She was ready. After a few moments without hesitation we decided to take the plunge and see what could come out of this.
As we entered my house, my mom was still in the kitchen having a cup of coffee. She looked at us, smiled and said: “What are you three up to? I thought you were all going to go to the lake ?”
“I told Sam and Clara about the old antique mirror we have in the attic and they really wanted to see it. We’re going to check it out real quick before heading out,” I said.
“Be careful and don’t make a mess!” my mom replied as we walked by.
We quickly climbed the creaky stairway before we got to the attic entrance. Sam arrived first and opened the door to let us all in.
The attic was dim, lit by a single window on the far side of the space. Rays of sunlight pierced through the dark musty space, revealing tiny dust particles floating in the air. Against one wall stood the mirror covered with a blanket. As soon as we got to it, we pulled the blanket down. The mirror was large, ornate, and strangely, nobody in my family knew how old it was or how it got there. I think I heard my mom mention once that it was in the attic when they bought the house. So, it must have belonged to the previous owner. Either way, we had the perfect setup with this spooky old mirror right in front of us. I took the blanket from the mirror and threw it over the window to block any light that was coming in. Clara lit the candle, looked at Sam, then both turned to me as I walked in closer.
We gathered around the old mirror. As we looked at each other, the earlier enthusiasm we had all shared was replaced by hesitation and an eerie realization of what we were really about to do. Soon enough, the silence was broken by Clara. “So, who’s going first?”
Samuel, trying to sound brave, responded, “Why don’t we do it together? We say her name three times, right?”
Clara nodded and we formed a semi-circle around the mirror. Holding hands and looking at the mirror, we began the chant.
“Bloody Mary…”
All of a sudden the room felt colder. We looked at each other for encouragement, then back at the mirror again.
“Bloody Mary…”
Again, we repeated the phrase. The mirror seemed to fog over. Was something really happening or was this just a part of our imagination? I wasn’t sure. I looked over to Sam, he looked at me and nodded. I looked at Clara and nodded at her, she seemed scared but she nodded back. We looked at the mirror once again and said in unison:
“Bloody Mary…”
The atmosphere in the attic grew dense as we said the final chant. The mirror no longer mirrored our terrified expressions. Instead, a ghostly female figure replaced our reflections staring at all of us. She looked more nightmarish than any story had portrayed. Her skin was deathly pale, her eyes were all white. No iris or pupil. I couldn’t see if she was looking at me, but I felt that she was.
“Why have you summoned me?” she spoke through the mirror and I felt a thousand chills run up my spine. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid in my entire life.
The terror was palpable. Clara, on instinct, took a step back. But a cold, ethereal hand shot out from the mirror, gripping her leg and holding her in place. Clara screamed. Panicked and unsure if her scream was from pain or just sheer fright from the unfolding events, Sam and I knew we had to do something to save her.
“Curiosity often comes with a price,” Bloody Mary hissed.
Sam had the courage in that moment that I hadn’t known he possessed. He plunged forward, attempting to pull Clara away. But Mary’s grip was unrelenting, and Clara began to cry and shiver uncontrollably.
In the midst of it all, I tried to push away the terror that gripped me and then all of a sudden, a thought popped into my mind. Sunlight. I remembered reading somewhere that supernatural entities such as this one, despised the light.
Without a second thought, I darted to the window, yanking away the blanket, allowing the sunshine to flood the room. As soon as the sun rays illuminated the room, Bloody Mary was vanquished. She just disappeared. Poof. The mirror, still a bit foggy, was clearing up fast.
My mom had heard Clara’s screams from downstairs and suddenly barged through the attic door with a worried expression on her face.
“Are you kids OK? I heard screams! Is everything OK?” she said.
We looked at each other and Clara quickly said. “Everything is fine, I just tripped over a box and hurt my leg a little bit”. This is the first time I looked at her leg and noticed bloody scratch marks on it. It was exactly where Bloody Mary had grabbed her. I glanced at Sam and we mumbled something really quick, I cannot remember exactly what we said.
Needless to say, mom was furious and we were not allowed in the attic anymore. Not that we had any desire to go there anyways, but what happened there will haunt us all for the rest of our lives.
Later, after my mom put a poultice on Clara’s leg and all the nerves died down, we decided to go outside and finally explore the nature around the lake. With a fresh outlook on things it seemed like a much better idea than summoning ghosts in the attic. The gentle lapping of the waves and the cool breeze did little to erase the horrors of that day. But it did make us feel more calm and at ease.
We made a pact that day, vowing to never speak of the event, to never dabble in legends or myths. Some things are better left undisturbed.
That summer day changed our lives forever. What happened that summer day in 1973 is something we rarely speak of and sometimes I question if it ever really happened or if it was just a figment of our collective imagination. Regardless, we came to understand that the true essence of legends is, they are not just tales but also lessons from the past. And they deserve to be told and shared so we all learn from them together!
