#3 Mirrored (4 page)

Bee had opened the window and stuck her head out. She looked almost crazy. She turned to Abbey and grinned. “This is brilliant. See you later, Abs—good luck.”

She closed the window, ran out the door, and slammed it behind her.

Abbey waited for her heart to stop pounding. She went to the window, but she couldn't open it. It was stuck fast.

And a funny thing—all she could see outside was her own back garden, only in reverse. No glass buildings. No people like ice sculptures. No orange skies.

She would have to go out into the street and have a look. Everything was only a reflection in here. Out there, beyond that bedroom door with the handle on the wrong side, was a new world.

She checked her clock. It was backwards, but she figured out that it was two o'clock. They were supposed to meet back here at teatime.

Abbey walked over to her bedroom door and grabbed the handle.

It was stuck. She twisted it again, but it wouldn't move—not even a little bit. She jerked it harder and harder, pushed at the door, banged it in frustration. Finally she gave up.

She tried the window again but couldn't budge it. This was really annoying. She'd have to wait for Bee to come back and explain how to work the door. How could she not have mentioned this?

Abbey sat down in a huff and waited for Bee. Hours passed. Teatime came and went, but she didn't return. Abbey was hungry. And cold.

She tried to read, but the writing in her books was backwards.

Finally, the door opened. Bee must be coming back!

But it wasn't Bee. It was Pearse. If he saw her, everything would be ruined!

She tried to hide, but it was too late! Pearse walked up to the mirror and looked right at her. She froze.

But he did what he always did when he looked in any mirror. He raised his arms and started flexing his muscles. He couldn't see her! He was looking at his own reflection!

Abbey giggled and stuck her tongue out at him from behind the glass.

Abbey's mother called Pearse. He jumped and ran out the door, shutting it behind him.

How strange—no one could see her in the mirror. It was like she was invisible. Abbey thought it was kind of cool, but it also worried her.

No one knew she was here.

And where on earth was Bee?

But Bee still didn't come, and it was way past teatime. Abbey tried the door a few more times. Nothing. And she was cold. So she climbed into bed and waited.

Eventually she dozed off.

She woke to a bang. It was dark outside and dark in the room. She tried the lamp, but it wouldn't turn on.

She peered through the mirror in the dark and made out the shape of someone at the door. “Bee,” she whispered. Abbey was really frightened.

But Bee didn't answer her.

Bee ignored her. Then she put on a nightdress—Abbey's favorite blue nightdress—and got into bed.

“Bee!”
Abbey was screaming now. “Look at me!
Look at me!”

But Bee was asleep—or maybe she was pretending to be asleep.

Abbey shouted and screamed. In the dark. In the cold.

She slumped to the floor, exhausted.

Suddenly the lights were blazing. And there was Bee, staring through the mirror.

Abbey leaped to her feet.

“Oh, Bee, I was so frightened.”

“Why, Abbey? What's wrong?”