5 years later

Nicole is blossoming right before my eyes. Father Pritchard still comes over everyday to tutor her, music has become her every breath and her lust for the unknown grows stronger everyday. She has grown greatly for she is now about five feet tall and her white hair is down to the middle of her back. Her red eyes gleam ever so brightly now and they are intensified by her ghostly skin.

It has been five years since Jack's death and many things have changed. Nicole now has many odd fascinations with things most children would never touch. For example, knives have become one of those fascinations and I can not stop her from finding or making them. Wood, tin, and any other metal she could get her ghostly hands on she would turn into a knife of some sort. Every day she will lock herself in the attic, which is over run by drawing, sheet music, and now knives, and work away till sunset.

She comes downstairs only to eat occasionally and look for supplies. Now instead of asking and begging for things she would demand for them and if I did not give it to her, she would get it herself. She would run from the house at night while I slept, stirring the neighbors and sending panic through the streets. I have argued with her so many times over these matters. Now I succumb to her will and get what she asks for her sake and mine.

As I was sitting by the fire one rainy night reading, I felt a presence unseen in the room. That's when I noticed Nicole's red eyes glittering in the corner of the dim room; she stared at me intently as if she were reading my every thought.

"Well... It seems I have a ghost in the house." I said jokingly, a smile swept across my face as Nicole stepped into the firelight.

"Seems we do." She replied an eerie smile crept along her pale cheeks sending her eyes sparkling with fascination.

"What is it that you want?" I inquired for I knew she would only come downstairs for supplies.

"I need glass." She stated and sat in a chair across the room, folding her arms in anticipation for what I was about to say.

"GLASS!? What on earth are you going to use that for?" I cried out standing from the couch.

"I do not need to explain what I am to use it for. I just need it and since I can not leave this place..." she said slyly, an odd and familiar look flooded her red eyes...

That look... She looks so much like her father...

"Well... I shall see what I can do about it..." I said calmly, sitting back down to read my book.

"You shall see? You shall see?! No you must get it! PLEASE Mum!" she cried out, her blood red eyes sent rampaging sparks across her ghostly face as she stood from her chair.

I looked up from my book with shock to see her sitting beside me.

So Silent, Truly a Ghost...

Her eyes pleaded for her and she knew she need not speak; I finally gave in before she went to get it herself. I rose from the couch and began to walk to my bedroom; Nicole right behind me as usual until we came to my bedroom door. Nicole stopped as I went through the door and she stood at the entrance.

"Come in child. You live here..." I said shocked at the fact that she dare not follow.

"I've never been in here before. What is this room?" she said with a confused look about her.

"My bedroom." I said as I went to my dresser and revealed a small hand mirror. "Here's your glass."

I handed her the mirror and she slowly took it, staring at the handle and not looking into the mirror.

"What is this?" she asked, confusion swept into her red eyes.

"It's a mirror." I replied, forgetting that she had never seen one before, "You can see your reflection in it."

"Really?" she inquired, wonder washed away the confusion.

She slowly turned the mirror over and looked into the glass. As she did, her expression filled with terror and the wonder fled from her eyes.

"It's him!" she breathed as she dropped the mirror and fled to her room.

I picked up the mirror and held it lightly in my hands. Nicole made no sound as she dashed from my bedroom and flew up the stairs. I took the stairs in my bedroom and went up to the attic. I opened the trapdoor to find her in her bed, shaking.

"Don't let him get me..." she whispered as she noticed my presence.

"Let who get you?" I asked as I walked over to her bed, the mirror hidden behind my back.

"Him... He's in the mirror..." she breathed as she sat with her chin on her knees, shaking, a small tear slid down her ghostly face.

"This mirror?" I asked as I slowly brought the mirror into view, it began to gleam in the dim candlelight.

She jumped as it came into view, almost falling off the bed.

"Keep it away. He'll come back!" she cried as tears began to stream down her face.

"He's not in here sweetheart." I began, "Mirrors only show YOUR reflection, no one else's. When you look into it, all you can see is your reflection."

"But that face Mum, it's him! I KNOW he was in there!! I saw him! He was in there. Please don't let him come back! That face and those eyes... He's there..." She breathed softly as she shakily pointed to the mirror that I clutched in my hands.

She sat very still on her bed as she stared intensely at the mirror; I ran my fingers over its delicate handle as an odd smile flicked at the corner of my mouth.

She won't understand something if she doesn't want too... She's just like... her father...