A while ago, maybe a year, I came home to find blood on my mirror. The entire thing was covered in bloody handprints, but they didn't have reflections, like...like... no. Impossible, right? What was possible was that I was being pranked. So, of course, I went around the house demanding to know who did it. No one admitted anything, and eventually I decided to pretend it didn’t happen. I went back to my room and tried to scrub the blood off, but it wouldn’t come out, as if I was trying to scrub dirt off a car window from the inside. I told myself it had just dried, but my heart was pounding. If it was dried then that still didn't explain the lack of reflection. When I was trying to sleep, though, I heard something. It sounded like something was talking to me. It was coming from the mirror's side of the room. I felt my spine tingle, scared, but nervously laughed it off, thinking I was imagining it and went back to sleep. A week later (one absolutely terrifying week during which I refused to turn my back to the mirror because I was scared something would stab me from behind) the blood still hadn’t come off, and because I was about to move houses (my mom’s decision, not mine, I’m 13) I was trying to clean it again. While I was doing that, a figure floated past the mirror. I screamed, and threw the bowl of Jolly Ranchers I’d been eating (I have a huge sweet tooth) at the mirror. Then the WEIRDEST thing happened. It. Sank. Straight. Through. The. Glass. The figure stopped, picked up the candy, and floated away. My family and I moved houses and I never saw her again. Still, I keep as far away from mirrors as possible.