Story by Morgana Andersen

Notes from the Performer: A woman lives with her cat in an old house by the sea.  One night, she is disturbed by a mysterious entity lurking close at hand.

Story text: 
A boulder weighs upon my chest, lit only by the flash of lightning from behind, casting a dark silhouette in front of endless angry clouds.  Somehow, I can breathe. A few seconds later, a rumble in the distance—a mile away, by the sound of it.

​

The boulder twitches and lets out a small but urgent pleading sounds.

“Meow.”

I awaken and see my cat, sitting on me, a glint in her green eyes.  Behind her, the door is open perhaps halfway.  A light in the hallway wavers, back and forth.

“Meow?”

I rub my eyes.  “What is it, Dinah?”

She slips off of me and drops off the bed, creeps her way back to the open door, glancing back at me now and then.  She reaches the door and meows again, looking directly at me.

I push the blanket off of me and am hit with cold air.  I step out of bed, grab my robe from its hook, put it on over my PJs, and find my fuzzy slippers.

“Meow!” 

I walk to her, still shivering. Dinah goes into the hall and meows again.

Passing by my vanity, I catch a glint of fangs out the corner of my eye, just above my jewelry box.

I turn and face the mirror. Open my mouth.  The teeth look normal now, but the eyes are too sharp, not at all sleepy.
Dinah meows impatiently.

“Coming!” I say.

She leads me to the kitchen. Behind me I hear footsteps. I turn.  My long shadow stretches back through the hall.  I shake it off and decide to make some hot chocolate.

Dinah meows softly.

A ghastly green light shines at the edge of the mug as I pour the cocoa. I try to ignore it. I sip, and wander to the sliding glass door of the house. Outside, amidst the cloudy night, a distant lighthouse lantern flashes. Over and over and over.  I look out to the sea.  But in the glass, where my face should be, deep eye sockets stare back, as a frail, ragged hand holds a stone mug. I take a breath. Dinah rubs against me. I see my eyes again, recessed behind dark, weary circles.  I gaze at my reflection.

She grins mischievously back at me, her eyes flash. I shriek. She does not.  I fling my mug at the door, hard as I can.  The door shatters, the mug breaks against the ground, and I run out into the night.

Behind me, two sets of footsteps follow, rapidly, urgently.  I force myself to look back and see Dinah running after me, a concerned look on her face.  I feel around in my robe pockets, find the flashlight I keep there, and turn it on.

I try to slow my breathing as Dinah and I walk through the grass.  We near the shore, and I sit down on the rocks.  The water is calm, but in the distance I hear waves.  The lighthouse light slowly spins over the water.

I begin to cry, dropping the flashlight.  Dinah snuggles into my lap.  I hear something, look out over the water, and see my reflection again.  She gazes back at me, examines me, and rises up off of the surface of the water, translucent before the sea.  She steps onto the shore.  Dinah hisses at her.  The apparition sits down on a nearby rock and holds out her hand to me.

Slowly, I reach out my hand in turn. She clasps it.  I feel a slight burning pain.  Then warmth through my body.  She smiles and dissolves into the night.

I stand and look out over the water, seeing nothing but the clouds, the lighthouse, and my own reflection.