MicroHorror

Breaking glass woke her. Sky scrambled back, falling off the end of the bed. The small bottom side window had shattered. But there was nothing, no rock or branch.

It was late so she just locked her bedroom and went to her parents’ empty bed, sleeping there.

In the morning she called the glass place and a guy called Ed parked his panel van in the driveway. He scratched his chin, looking at the shards. “Parents away?”

“Annual gypsy caravan.”

“Hippies?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to college.”

“Big future.”

“Yeah. Can you fix it?”

“Sure. Got some old glasshouse panes that will fit with the architecture.”

“Expensive?” She would use her money from babysitting.

“Nah,” Ed said.

“How come it broke, anyway?”

“Well, these older brick houses settle over time. The mullion’s gotten all twisted. A spontaneous break. Although…” Ed rubbed his chin again.

“Although what?” Sky said.

“Well. Replaced a window up here years ago.” Ed smiled and wrinkled his nose. “Nothing, really, just one of those old stories. Let me get this piece cut and I’ll clear off.”

***

A quiet sound woke her. The clock glowed 3:07.

Sky sat up, lifted the edge of the curtain and saw a girl looking back in at her.

“Help me,” the girl whispered. Suddenly there was a man behind the girl. In a blur he swept her onto the driveway. She was screaming. He pounded on her with a blade.

Sky jumped up and ripped back the curtains. No one there, just the pale glow from the gibbous moon.

She could still hear screaming, quieter now.

Crouching to the new window Sky saw the man. He tossed the girl’s body against the fence, then turned towards Sky. He threw something and Sky ducked but nothing impacted.

Shaking, she returned to the main window. Nothing.

Through the small window, the girl was lying against the fence. The man was gone. The girl faded away like a slow movie transition.

***

“What do you mean, a girl?” Ed said on the phone.

Sky sipped her coffee and explained.

“Through the new pane, you say?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, then. That’s mighty odd. I can’t give you a refund.”

“I don’t want a refund. I want an explanation.”

“Well, now, some of those old glasshouses were made from photographic plates that had been scraped clean. Maybe mixed moonlight and streetlights made you see residue of an old image.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Or memory glass, or past glass.”

“Memory glass?” Sky said.

“Oh, yeah. Like witches’ hexes and curses. Glass that remembers what it’s seen. Violence and mayhem.”

“So what’s past glass?”

“Listen. You saw photographic residue,” Ed said. “I’m really busy today, but I can come by on Friday.”

“Thanks anyway.”

***

The tapping woke Sky again. 3:07. The girl.

“Help me.”

Swept away and stabbed to death. The man hurling something at the window, then strolling away. Sky watched until she faded.

***

Sky took her morning coffee and walked up the driveway. Here, she thought. The girl was murdered right here. Sky heard something from the house, then their neighbor called.

“Sky,” Mrs. Grant said. “Doing okay without your parents?”

“I’m fine,” Sky said. She was standing where the girl had fallen. She flinched away.

“Sky?”

“I’m okay. Did something happen here?”

“What do you mean?”

Sky heard someone calling from the house again, but Mrs. Grant’s face was so intense.

“Like…” Sky felt stupid saying it. “Like a murder?”

Mrs. Grant paled. “You know about it?”

“The new glass.” Sky turned a little pointing. “I saw… something happen.”

“In 1983 Sarah-Jane MacRuddy…”

But Sky had stopped listening. Inside the house, through that pane she could see herself, like looking into a mirror. Clawing at the frame.

“…never solved…” Mrs. Grant said.

“Help me,” Sky’s other self screamed.

Then that same man, attacking with the blade and Sky realized that seeing the past one way meant that what she saw the other way was…

• Copyright: © 2009 Sean Monaghan