Ghost Land: Incident In A

I touched the mirror. My fingers went through.

They told me not to go back. Not to the house on Vermillion Street. But the dreams wouldn't stop—the same dream where I'm twelve again, and the floorboards creak like a whisper: "Come play." Incident in a Ghost Land

In it, I saw two versions of myself: one cowering, one grinning. The grinning one pressed her palm against the glass. "You remember," she said, "what Mother made us do to survive." I touched the mirror

So I returned.

The worst part was the mirror at the end of the hall. " she said

We're not locked in with the ghost.

We are the ghost.