Your True Tales
April 2007 - Page 13
Lady in the Mirror
by Mother of 3
I was eight, it was either Aug/Sept 1972 or spring, summer 1973. All I remember for sure was that I was eight and living in Glasgow, Scotland. My parents used to visit and look out for an old lady we knew. This lady used to ask if my younger sister and I could sleep over. I have no idea why because she was really old and she didn't ever pay us any attention, but she was recently widowed, so maybe she was just lonely.
One night my mother told her we could sleep over. She lived in a block of flats that old people lived in. There were two bedrooms; her room and the guest room. The guest room was quite small and contained antique, or at least old furniture. There was a double bed with a mahogany headboard that had a cord-pull light attached to it. To the left of the bed was a mahogany tall boy and right in front of the bed was a mahogany dressing table and chair. The dressing table had three mirrors on it; one big center one and two smaller side ones that could be angled to show you the back of your head. My little sister was snoring so loudly that in the middle of the night I woke up, but I was also hot, so very hot and that also made me wake up. The bed had loads of blankets on it and I reached out and pulled the cord on the light so that I could see to push some of the blankets off me.
As I sat up, I found myself looking straight into the mirror. In the mirror there was an old, slim lady with white curly hair. She was wrapped in a huge white bath towel. Her head was bent down as if she was looking at the ground. With her arms crossed in front of herself, she was rubbing her upper arms with the ends of the towel. The room she was in was different to the guest room - it had brown wood paneling on the wall that stopped 3/4 or 4/5ths of the way up. It was finished off with a picture rail around it. Then the lady stopped rubbing her arms and she lifted her head and she looked up at me and smiled.
I slid under that ton of blankets and stayed there, with the light still on, until the room filled with daylight. I KNOW I was not dreaming. I was scared out of my wits. I have gone over that episode so many, many, many times in my mind and although as an eight-year-old child I was petrified; as an adult I also know that this spirit did not hurt me, nor did she do anything that makes me think she wanted to hurt me. Who she was or what she wanted me to see her for is a mystery to me. I found myself frozen in the spot the next morning however, when I went into the friend's room and her dressing table mirror was covered with a pink shawl. I knew straight away that she too had seen "something" in her mirror. The incident was never discussed with the lady and I wish I could go back in time and ask her questions.
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