December 20th – December 25th, 2005

"No!" Sam's voice rang in my ears, and I shot up, now totally awake.

I frantically looked around the Impala with tired eyes, confused and scared. Until I realized Sam was reclined back in his seat, asleep.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Sam, wake up," Dean said, shaking Sam awake. "Everything's fine," he assured me.

Sam woke up, disoriented. He sat up and looked around. After seeing for myself that everything was fine, I sighed with relief.

"I take it I was having a nightmare," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, another one."

"Hey, at least I got some sleep," Sam joked.

Dean shook his head. "Ya know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this."

"Are we here?" Sam asked, looking out of his window.

Dean nodded. "Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio."

Sam picked up a newspaper with one of the obituaries circled and pointed to the picture. "So, what do you think really happened to this guy?"

"That's what we are going to find out," Dean said and tossed all their research for the case into the backseat next to me. "Let's go." He turned to me. "We will be right back." Then he smiled and got out of the Impala with Sam.

I turned and watched them walk up to a big white building with massive columns along the front of it. There was an ambulance parked out front and a sign on the building that read Lake Erie Central Hospital. They were going into the morgue to see if they could find any more clues on the man's body.

I looked over and grabbed the newspaper that Sam had been reading, an obituary for a man named Steven Shoemaker was circled. It said, "The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father, Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, December 21, at 2:00 p.m. at his home in Toledo."

It's horrible to see when anyone dies, but when they have kids, it's even worse, especially when it's so close to the holidays. Even though we didn't usually celebrate anything, I knew that most people cherish spending the holidays with family, and I definitely understood the importance of family.

I noticed that there was some blank notebook paper on the seat with the other case papers, so I decided that I would try to draw something while I waited for Sam and Dean to come back. I found a pencil and turned around, so I was looking out of the back window at the hospital and started drawing the scenery.

The boys had been in the hospital for a while, and I had made a lot of progress on my drawing. I was actually surprised at how much I was enjoying myself. I was working on some finishing details when the doors to the Impala opened.

"Might not be one of ours," Sam said as he sat in the Impala. "Might just be some freak medical thing."

I turned around and put my drawing and pencil in my lap.

"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean asked.

Sam thought for a second. "Uh, almost never."

"Exactly," Dean said.

Sam shrugged. "All right, let's go talk to the daughter."

Dean started the Impala.

"Wait, wait. What did you find out?" I asked, feeling left out.

Sam turned to me and smirked. "Well, the newspaper said Steven's daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding."

"Ugh, that's awful." I frowned.

"They think that he suffered a massive stroke or an aneurysm," Sam said, "They also said that he had severe cerebral bleeding and that this guy had more blood in his skull than anyone they've ever seen."

"Yeah, but that guy was an idiot. He said his capillaries burst and that they were bloodshot from a stroke. Those eyes weren't bloodshot. There was nothing left. They exploded," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"His eyes exploded?!" I asked, grabbing my face like I was Macaulay Culkin.

"Yeah, but that's not why Dean's mad." Sam laughed. "He almost got into a fight with the morgue tech."

"What, why?" I asked, laughing and lightly smacked Dean on his shoulder.

"What?" Dean shrugged. "He was giving us a hard time, and besides, that's not why I'm annoyed. Sammy here decided to use all my hard-earned money to bribe the guy into telling us what we wanted to know."

"Your hard-earned money?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "You mean the money you won playing poker?"

Sam laughed. "That's exactly what I said."

"Whatever." Dean huffed. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, peering down at my drawing.

"Oh, nothing." I crumpled it up and threw it onto the seat next to me. "I was bored, so I decided to draw while I waited for you guys."

Sam reached back and grabbed my crumpled-up drawing.

"Hey!" I yelled, trying to grab it from him before he opened it, but I was too late.

He opened it up and showed it to Dean. "Why would you not want us to see this? And why would you ruin it?" he asked, looking back at me.

"I don't know." I shrugged sheepishly.

"Yeah, I didn't know you could draw like this." Dean smiled at me.

I reached forward and snatched the drawing from Sam. "Thanks, but it's just a silly drawing."

They gave each other a look but didn't say anything else. I looked down at the drawing on my lap. It was actually surprisingly good. I smiled and smoothed it back out as much as I could and set it on the seat next to me.


We pulled up to a house that had cars packed into the driveway and parked along the side of the road in front of it. Then we got out of the Impala and walked into the Shoemaker's house where the funeral was being held. Everyone inside was dressed up. The men were wearing black suits, and the women were wearing black dresses. I felt like we were super out of place.

"Feel like we're under-dressed," Dean said, looking around at everyone.

I nodded. "Me too."

We continued through the house and noticed some pictures of Mr. Shoemaker were placed with flowers in front of them. When we got to the back of the house, we continued outside to the backyard, which was where most of the people were.

Dean stopped a man. "Excuse me, could you point us to Donna and Lily, please?"

The man looked at us confused and then pointed toward the center of the yard where a small group of girls was sitting together. We walked up to them. There were a blonde girl and a brunette girl with shoulder-length hair and another girl with shorter dark hair. They all seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, and there was another girl that looked to be about my age. She was turned away from the rest of them and didn't seem interested in talking to anyone.

"You must be Donna, right?" Dean said to the girl with short dark hair.

Donna furrowed her brow. "Yeah."

"Hi, uh... we're really sorry," Sam said sympathetically.

"Thank you." Donna smiled slightly and then looked down at the ground.

"I'm Sam, this is Dean, and this is my niece, Maddison," Sam said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "We worked with your dad."

Donna looked at the girl with brunette hair sitting next to her and then back at us. "You did?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "This whole thing. I mean, a stroke?"

Donna put her head down quickly. I elbowed Dean in the side, knowing what he was saying was upsetting her.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," the brunette said to Dean.

"It's okay. I'm okay." Donna nodded and reassured her friend.

"Were there any symptoms?" Dean asked, "Dizziness? Migraines?"

Donna shook her head. "No."

The younger girl turned to look at Donna. "That's because it wasn't a stroke."

"Lily don't say that," Donna said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset," Donna said.

"No, it happened because of me," Lily said sadly.

"Sweetie, it didn't," Donna said, trying to reassure her sister.

Sam walked over to Lily and knelt, so he was eye level with her. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Right before he died, I said it," Lily said, looking down at the ground.

"You said what?" Sam asked.

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror," Lily said, "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died," Donna said, "This isn't your fault."

"I think your sister's right, Lily," Dean said, "There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"

Lily shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

Dean smiled at her slightly, but she got up and walked away.

"I'm sorry about that." Donna sighed.

"It's fine," Sam said as he stood up.

Dean nudged my back slightly, wanting me to talk to Lily some more.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked sweetly, "Could I use your bathroom, please?"

"Yeah, of course." Donna smiled at me. "It's up the stairs to the right."

"Thank you." I smiled back and then walked off. I followed Lily into the house, and when I was close enough, I touched her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" She jumped, and I cringed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. I've just been a little jumpy since... it happened," Lily said, looking down.

"Um, what you said earlier... do you really think it was Bloody Mary that hurt your dad?" I asked.

Lily nodded sadly. "Yeah, but Donna doesn't believe me."

"Why do you think that, though?" I asked.

"Well, I had friends over that night, and we thought it would be fun if we played the game," Lily said, "So, I went into the bathroom and said her name three times. After I finished, nothing happened, so my friends started banging on the door to scare me."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"My dad came out and asked us to quiet down, so we did," she said, "He went into the bathroom, and then Donna came home. She walked upstairs and started screaming. We all ran to see what was wrong and— and there was a pool of blood coming out of the bathroom." She started crying and couldn't continue.

I walked forward and hugged her.

She hugged me back and cried. "This is all my fault. He's dead because of me."

"You have to know that what happened isn't your fault, Lily," I said, trying to comfort her.

After a moment, she let go. "No one believes me!" she yelled and ran upstairs.

I looked around and noticed everyone in the room was staring at me. I looked around awkwardly, feeling downright uncomfortable. I put my head down and walked up the stairs to escape to the bathroom. Once I reached the top step, I looked around the corner and saw that Lily was nowhere to be found, which was good because I didn't want to upset her more. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I fixed my hair because my curls were a little crazy. I splashed some water on my face and sighed. I felt terrible that Lily had to deal with what happened to her dad, and I didn't seem to help her feel better at all. Then I noticed something on the floor, I knelt and realized that it was dried blood still left from the night Mr. Shoemaker died. Then I heard creaking from someone walking down the hallway. I stood up and slowly opened the door and peered out to see my brothers standing at the end of the hall.

"Look," I whispered to them.

They quickly walked over to me, and once they reached me, I pointed out the dried blood on the floor.

"The Bloody Mary legend... Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Not that I know of." He walked in and looked in the mirror, hoping to find some sort of clue.

Sam knelt and touched the dried blood. "I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, maybe everywhere, it's just a story, but here it's actually happening."

"The place where the legend began?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded and opened the medicine cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says Bl—" Sam stopped himself and looked in the mirror as he gulped slightly.

I shook my head at him, not wanting him to finish saying her name in case something happened.

He nodded and then continued, "The person who says you know what gets it. But here—"

Dean nodded. "Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah."

"Right," Sam said.

"Never heard anything like that before." Dean shrugged. "Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out." He stepped out of the bathroom.

"It's worth checking in to," Sam said as he followed Dean.

I looked down at the blood again and sighed before following my brothers out of the bathroom. I turned the corner and saw the girl with the brunette hair confronting Sam and Dean.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked, annoyed.

"We— We had to go to the bathroom," Dean stuttered.

I shook my head at the awful excuse.

"Who are you?" she asked angrily.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad," Dean said, caught off guard.

"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself," the girl snapped.

Dean nodded and chuckled nervously. "No, I know, I meant—"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that?" she asked, shaking her head. Then she looked at me. "And what did you say to Lily, I saw her run away crying, after talking to you."

I put my head down, feeling bad that I had made Lily feel worse. I walked up to my brothers, and Sam put his arm around me, trying to comfort me.

"So, you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming," the girl said.

"All right, all right," Sam said, "We think something happened to Donna's dad."

The girl nodded. "Yeah, a stroke."

Sam shook his head. "That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Honestly?" Sam asked and shook his head. "We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

Dean shrugged. "So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead."

"Who are you, cops? And a trainee?" she asked, confused, but she was starting to lighten up.

"Something like that." Dean smirked.

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down his number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary... just give us a call." He handed her the paper, then we continued down the hallway.

"My name's Charlie, by the way," the girl called after us as we turned the corner and walked down the stairs.

We made our way through the house and out to the Impala. When we got into the car, the boys both turned around to look at me.

I gave them a confused look. "What?"

"What did Lily tell you?" Dean asked.

"Oh." I laughed. Usually, I was on the opposite end of that question. "Nothing really. She just basically told me the same thing she said outside. She said that her and her friends were playing Bloody Mary, and then her dad died, and there was blood everywhere." I sighed. "I think I just made her feel worse." I looked away from them and put my head down.

Sam put his hand under my chin and lifted my head up. "She was already upset. She probably needed someone to talk to, and you were able to do that." He smiled at me.

I felt my chin start to quiver, and I pushed his hand away. "She yelled that no one believed her and ran away from me."

"Hey, I pushed you to go talk to her," Dean said, "If anything, it's my fault. I'm sorry, baby sis."

I took a deep breath. "It's fine. I'm fine. Can we just go, please?"

Dean nodded with an apologetic look, and they both turned around, and we started driving away.


We walked into the local library. We planned to search for any clue as to why Bloody Mary would be haunting the Shoemaker's or the town.

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof... like a local woman who died nasty," Dean said as we walked through the library.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but a legend this widespread. It's hard. I mean, there's like fifty versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more."

"All right, so what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean asked.

"Every versions got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror." Sam shrugged. "So, we've gotta search local newspapers... public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

Dean scoffed. "Well, that sounds annoying."

"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we..." Sam trailed off when he realized all the computers had Out of Order signs placed on them. "I take it back. This will be very annoying."

We searched around the library for what felt like hours because Sam likes to make sure he has every bit of research he can get. Once we finally collected all our books, we decided to head to our motel. When we got there, we started researching right away. While I was reading some old newspapers, I felt my eyes growing heavier.

The next thing I knew, Dean was brushing my hair back. "Maddison."

I opened my eyes and realized I had fallen asleep leaning on the table.

"You can go to sleep, kiddo." Dean smiled.

"Yeah, we should probably all get some sleep, actually," Sam said.

I nodded with tired eyes. "Okay."

I grabbed some pjs out of my bag and walked into the bathroom to change. When I came out, the boys were already settled in their beds. I walked over to Dean's bed and grabbed the extra pillow and the blanket at the foot of the bed, and walked to the couch.

Dean sat up. "What are you doing?"

I set my pillow and blanket down on the couch. "I don't know. I'm getting older, and I just thought I should have my own bed now." I shrugged. "Plus, you like to throw knees and elbows in your sleep." I laughed.

"Okay. That's fine, but you don't need to sleep on the couch. I can," Dean said, starting to get up.

"Or you could take my bed," Sam added as he sat up.

I took a step forward and put my hands up. "Okay, now both of you stop. I am going to sleep on the couch because both of you deserve to get some rest in a bed. And besides, you are both too tall to sleep comfortably on this," I said, pointing to the barely five-foot-long couch.

"All right," Dean said, looking guilty.

They both laid back in their beds and started snoring almost immediately.


I woke up to Sam gasping. I rolled over and realized I was no longer on the couch and was now covered up in Dean's bed. Dean was sitting at the table researching again and must have moved me to the bed when he woke up.

Sam sat up. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

"'Cause I'm an awesome brother. So, what did you dream about?" Dean asked, not removing his eyes from the newspaper he was reading.

"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam groaned as he laid back down.

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, tossing the newspaper down on the table and turning his attention to Sam.

"Did you find anything?" Sam asked.

"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Dean asked sarcastically. "No. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine, committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet."

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, ya know... eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing." Dean shook his head. "There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."

Ring! Ring!

Sam leaned over and answered his phone, "Hello?" (...) "Okay, we will be right there." He hung up and put the phone down.

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"It was Charlie." Sam threw his blankets off him and stood up. "We have to go. Something happened last night. She's really upset. I couldn't really understand her."


"Where are we going?" Dean asked after we pulled out of the motel parking lot.

"The park," Sam said quickly, and Dean took off.

When we got to the park, we found Charlie crying on a bench as she waited for us.

"Charlie, tell us what happened?" Sam asked, concerned.

"I was talking to Jill on the phone last night." Charlie sniffled. "We were talking about what happened to Mr. Shoemaker. I suggested that maybe Lily was right, and then she started joking about it. And then we got off the phone shortly after." She started crying harder. "They found her on the bathroom floor. And her— her eyes. They were gone."

"I'm sorry," Sam said sympathetically.

"And she said it." Charlie shook her head. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

Dean shook his head. "No, you're not insane."

"Oh god, that makes me feel so much worse." Charlie sobbed.

"Look..." Sam sighed. "We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it, but we could use your help," Dean said.

Charlie nodded. "Okay, what do you need?"

"We are going to have to see Jill's room," Sam said.


After we arrived at Jill's house, Charlie got out of the Impala and went to the front door. A moment later, a woman came to the door and let her in. Sam, Dean, and I walked around the back to the window that Charlie had pointed out was Jill's bedroom. Charlie unlocked the window and let us in.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asked after we climbed through the window.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things." Charlie sighed. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us. This is for the greater good," Dean said and closed the curtains. "Hit the lights."

I walked over and shut the lights off.

"What are you guys looking for?" Charlie asked.

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," Dean said.

Sam pulled a digital camera out of his bag. "Hey, night vision," he said and held the camera out to Dean, who hit a button on it. "Thanks. Perfect." He pointed the camera up at Dean.

Dean turned his butt toward the camera slightly and smirked. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?"

Sam laughed and walked away with the camera, he opened Jill's closet door and started filming the mirror that was hanging on the inside of it. "So, I don't get it. I mean... the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

Dean shrugged. "Beats me." He grabbed an EVP recorder out of the bag.

Sam closed the closet door and walked toward the bathroom.

"I want to know why Jill said it in the first place," Dean said while waving the EVP around random objects in the room.

Charlie shrugged. "It was just a joke."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

Sam was now filming the mirror in the bathroom. "Hey. There's a black light in the bag, right?"

As I searched the bag for the black light, Sam carried the mirror out of the bathroom and placed it upside down on the bed. I found the black light and tossed it to him. He peeled off the brown paper that was on the back of the mirror. Then he shined the black light on it and revealed a handprint and the words Gary Bryman.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie asked.

Sam looked up at Charlie. "You know who that is?"

Charlie shook her head. "No."


Back at the park, Dean, Charlie, and I sat on a bench as we waited for Sam to finish making some phone calls.

Charlie turned to me. "Hey, uh, Maddison. I'm sorry that I was rude to you yesterday. I was just trying to protect my friends."

I nodded. "Oh, it's fine. I understand."

She smiled at me, and I smiled back. I looked over at Dean, and he winked at me.

Sam came up behind us. "So, Gary Bryman was an eight-year-old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver."

Charlie gasped. "Oh my god."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Jill drove that car," Charlie said.

Dean stood up. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house."


When we got to Donna's, Charlie tried to explain what we were doing. Donna seemed hesitant at first but finally allowed us to investigate the mirror in her bathroom. We rushed upstairs while Charlie stayed and talked to Donna about everything that was going on. Sam took the mirror off the wall and put it on the floor upside down, Dean shined the black light over it. There was another handprint and the words Linda Shoemaker.

"Linda Shoemaker," Sam said and then replaced the mirror on the wall.

Then we walked back downstairs to the girls.

"Donna?" Sam asked.

She turned to him.

"Who is Linda Shoemaker?" he asked.

Donna furrowed her brow. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important," Sam urged.

"Yeah. Linda's my mom, okay?" Donna said, slightly annoyed, "She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it." She shook her head. "I think you should leave."

Dean nodded. "Now Donna, just listen—"

"Get out of my house!" Donna yelled and ran up the stairs.

"Oh my god," Charlie said, "Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?"

Sam shook his head, unsure. "Maybe."

"I think I should stick around," Charlie said.

"All right." Dean nodded. "Whatever you do, don't—"

"Believe me," Charlie said, "I won't say it."


When we got back to the motel, it was late, but we still needed to do some more research to figure out who Mary was. Dean was searching on his laptop, Sam was organizing the clues with tacks on the wall, and I was going through more old newspapers.

"All right, I'm just doing a nationwide search," Dean said.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asked.

"Yup." Dean shrugged. "The NCIC, the FBI database..." He sighed. "At this point, any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

Sam walked over and sat on the bed near Dean. "But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked." Dean shrugged. "So, unless you got a better idea..."

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "I know, I was thinking the same thing."

"With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run," Sam said.

"Both had secrets where people died," Dean said.

"Right." Sam shrugged. "I mean, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors... that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

Dean nodded. "Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not," Sam said.

"Take a look at this." Dean pointed to his computer.

I crawled to the end of the bed so I could look too and got a quick look before Dean put his hand over my eyes, not letting me see. It was a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood.

"Looks like the same handprint on the mirror," Sam said.

"Her name was Mary Worthington... an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana," Dean said.

"All right, so we will head there in the morning," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, let's get some sleep."

I got up and went to the bathroom with my things to get ready for bed. When I walked out, Sam was already in his bed, and Dean was squished on the couch under my blanket. I walked over to him and punched him in the stomach.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Ow," he said, looking up at me.

"Oh, come on." I smirked and poked him in the shoulder. "That didn't hurt."

"Yeah, you're right." He laughed. "I've gotta teach you how to punch."

"Hey, I can punch." I shrugged. "I just didn't want to hurt you."

"Mm-hmm." Dean smirked. "Now get to bed, kid."

"That's what I'm trying to do, but you're kinda in my way," I said.

"Nope, you're sleeping in the bed tonight," he said, pointing over to his bed.

"Come on, Dean, seriously," I said, tugging on his t-shirt sleeve. "Just sleep in the bed. You don't even fit on the couch."

"Nope. You're not winning this one tonight." He closed his eyes and settled his head onto the pillow. "Now get to bed, little girl."

"Ugh, fine." I stomped over to the bed. "But don't complain to me about it in the morning."


A few hours later, we woke up and set off to the Fort Wayne, Indiana police station. Once we got there, Sam and Dean went in to get some answers as usual. I was still tired, so I just cuddled up with one of their flannels and closed my eyes.

I woke up once they got in the Impala. "That was fast." I sat up.

Dean turned to me. "Yeah, the detective filled us in pretty quickly."

"So, get this..." Sam said, "Mary was nineteen, lived by herself. She won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And then one night someone broke into her apartment and murdered her. Cut out her eyes with a knife."

"Ew." I frowned. "And awful."

Dean smacked Sam in the arm. "Too much, man."

Then I smacked Dean in his arm. "I'm not five."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but you're eleven."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That doesn't mean I can't handle the details." I turned back to Sam. "You can keep going."

Sam smirked and nodded. "So, the detective believes that a man named Trevor killed her, but it could never be proven. And she was cremated so there aren't any bones for us to salt and burn."

I sighed. "What are we going to do then?"

"We aren't sure yet," Dean said as we drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm going to start searching around for where Mary's mirror went," Sam said.


As Dean drove us back to Toledo, Sam had gotten through to someone. "Oh, really?" (...) "Ah, that's too bad, Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror." (...) "Okay, well, maybe next time." (...) "All right, thanks." He sighed and hung up.

"So?" Dean asked.

"So, that was Mary's brother," Sam said, "The mirror was in the family for years until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques... a store in Toledo."

"So, wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Her spirits definitely tied up with it somehow."

"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, there is."

"Yeah, when someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped," I said.

Sam smirked at Dean. "Yup, that's what I was going to say."

Dean shrugged. "So, Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it."

"Yeah, I don't know, maybe." Sam sighed.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Sam answered his phone, "Hello?" (...) "Charlie?" (...) "Okay, calm down, we are coming," he said quickly and then hung up. "Charlie is in trouble, we have to hurry."


We drove to Charlie's and spotted her walking down the sidewalk with her head in her hands, crying hysterically. Dean pulled up next to her, Sam jumped out and comforted her until she calmed down enough to get in the car. Dean drove to our motel, and we rushed into our room. Charlie sat down on one of the beds, still covering her face. Dean and Sam ran around the room, covering any reflective surfaces. I sat with Charlie and rubbed her back, trying to get her to stop crying.

Sam came over and sat on the bed with us. "Hey, hey, it's okay..." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you can open up your eyes, Charlie. It's okay, all right?"

Charlie slowly looked up.

"Now listen," Sam said, "You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you."

"But I can't keep that up forever." Charlie cried. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "No. Not anytime soon."

Dean came over and sat on the bed too. "All right, Charlie. We need to know what happened."

"We were in the bathroom," Charlie said, "Donna said it."

"That's not what we're talking about," Dean said, "Something happened, didn't it? In your life... a secret... where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"

Charlie hesitated and then sighed. "I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, ya know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me, and he loved me, and he said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.'" She shook her head, upset. "And you know what I said? I said, 'Go ahead.'" She shrugged. "And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just— I didn't believe him, ya know? I should have." She put her head in her hands and started crying again.

"Charlie, you can't blame yourself, you couldn't have known," I said.

Charlie looked up at me and tried to smile through the tears in her eyes.

"Okay, you girls stay here." Dean stood up. "We are going to stop Mary."

"What?" I asked. "No. I'm going with you."

"Maddison, I'm not going to argue with you. Stay here with Charlie, keep her safe," Dean said, giving me a stern look.

"I'm not going to argue with you either," I said, standing up, "Charlie should get some rest. She looks exhausted, and I wouldn't feel comfortable trying to sleep with someone watching over me. She's perfectly safe with everything covered and even more safe if she's able to get some sleep. Mary can't get her if her eyes are closed." I knew he didn't want me to go because he was worried, but I wasn't going to be left out of everything all the time.

Dean shook his head. "You know..." he raised his voice, "You almost got killed on that plane a few weeks ago and—"

"She's right I really should get some rest," Charlie said.

Dean and I just glared at each other for a few seconds. He had never raised his voice at me before, which either meant that he was really worried, or he didn't like me ignoring what he wanted.

Sam stood up and walked over to us. "All right, you two. Let's just go." He put his hands on our shoulders and pushed us toward the door.


The ride was quiet for a while. None of us really wanted to talk after the awkward confrontation.

Dean cleared his throat. "Her boyfriend killing himself, that's not Charlie's fault."

"You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean," Sam said, "Charlie had a secret. Someone died, that's good enough for Mary."

Dean shrugged. "I guess."

"Ya know, I've been thinking," Sam said, "It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"Why, what do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right?" Sam asked, "I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, ya know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"Well, how do you know that's going to work?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't, not for sure."

"Well, who's gonna summon her?" Dean asked.

"I will," Sam said, "She'll come after me."

"Ya know what, that's it," Dean said and pulled the car over. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow?" He furrowed his brow. "Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night... it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me... it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean, I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

Sam shook his head. "I don't blame you."

"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done," Dean said.

"I could've warned her," Sam said.

"About what?" Dean shook his head. "You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No, you don't," Sam said.

"I don't what?" Dean asked.

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything," Sam said.

Dean furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam asked.

Dean stared at Sam for a moment and then shook his head. "No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it," Sam said, "And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this."

"Fine!" Dean smacked the steering wheel. "Damn it, you two!"


When we got to the antique shop, we pulled into a side alley and walked up to the door. Sam knelt and started picking the lock while Dean and I kept watch. After Sam got the lock open, we walked in, and my heart dropped, there were mirrors literally everywhere.

I sighed. "Uh, now what?"

"Well... that's just great." Dean shrugged. "All right, let's start looking."

We split up and started walking down different aisles, I followed behind Sam.

"Maybe they've already sold it," Dean said.

Sam finally stopped and shined his flashlight on a unique looking mirror. "I don't think so."

Dean walked over and pulled out a picture of Mary's murder scene to compare. "That's it." He sighed. "You sure about this?"

Sam handed Dean his flashlight and sighed. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." He looked back at us, and we nodded at him. I handed him one of the crowbars we brought, and then he continued, "Bloody Mary."

Suddenly, lights shined through the windows at the front of the store.

Dean turned. "I'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful... smash anything that moves."

After Dean left, Sam started acting as though he could hear things that I couldn't. I was extremely nervous, but I didn't have anything to help because Dean took our other crowbar with him. Then Sam started smashing a bunch of mirrors all except for Mary's. I covered my ears and stepped back.

"Come on!" Sam yelled, "Come into this one!"

Then he started to look at his reflection oddly and began having trouble breathing. He grabbed his chest, and then blood started trickling out of his eyes. I ran to him, and he dropped the crowbar on the ground. When I reach down to grab it, Sam held onto me for support, which made it difficult to stay standing myself.

"Dean!" I yelled, "Dean!"

Sam was progressively getting weaker and putting more of his weight on me. I felt helpless. His eyes just continued to bleed. Then the mirror smashed into a million pieces and Sam, and I collapsed to the floor.

"Sam, Sammy!" Dean yelled and knelt next to him.

"It's Sam," Sam said as he opened his eyes.

"God, are you okay?" Dean asked, looking at all the blood on Sam's face.

Sam nodded. "Uh, yeah."

"Come on, come on." Dean offered me his hand, helped me up, and then turned back to Sam. He pulled him up and put Sam's arm over his shoulders to help him walk.

We began to walk away until we heard eerie breathing coming from behind us. We turned to see Mary crawling over the broken glass on the floor. Once we made eye contact with her, we all hunched over in pain, our eyes dripping with blood. My vision became blurry, and I fell to my knees and then onto my back. My eyes felt like someone was shoving their thumbs into them, and my heart felt like it was going to implode. Between the blur, I saw Dean hold a mirror up to Mary.

Then a female's voice rang through the air, "You killed them! All those people! You killed them!"

Mary started choking, and my vision started becoming clear. Mary's eyes began bleeding, and then she shrieked. Her body turned into a pile of blood on the floor and then shattered into shards of glass.

"Hey, guys?" Dean asked.

"Yeah?" Sam and I asked in unison.

"This has got to be like..." Dean looked around at all the broken mirrors. "What? 600 years of bad luck?"

Sam and I laughed weakly, then we all stood up.

Dean knelt, so he was eye level with me. "Are you all right?" He put his hands on my cheeks and used his thumbs to wipe away the blood from my eyes.

"Yeah." I chuckled, pushing his hands away. "You look just as bad as me."

He stood up and pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry about earlier, I just—"

I pushed him away and smirked. "Stop, I know." I punched him lightly in the stomach.

"Yup, definitely need to teach you how to punch." Dean smirked, ruffled my hair, and then walked around me.

I turned toward him and put my arms out. "I wasn't even trying, ya know."

Sam laughed as he followed Dean. I chased after them, and I passed by two policemen passed out in front of the door.

"Uh, hey. Are they okay?!" I yelled.

"Yeah, they will wake up in a bit. I heard you yelling for me, so I had to do what I had to do," Dean called back to me.

I shrugged and ran to catch up with them.


In the car, we got cleaned up and set off back to the motel to pick up Charlie. She was asleep when we got there but was relieved when we told her she didn't have to worry anymore. Then we got back into the Impala and drove Charlie to her house.

"So, this is really over?" Charlie asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"Thank you." Charlie smiled and then got out of the car.

"Charlie?" Sam asked, and she turned around. "Your boyfriend's death... you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."

Charlie smiled back, faintly.

Dean hit Sam gently. "That's good advice."

Sam nodded half-heartedly.

Dean pulled back onto the road. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is," Dean said.

"Look..." Sam sighed. "You're my brother, and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."