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The Other Sandra by Christine

There once was a little girl named Sandra. She lived with her parents in a lovely two-story house in Lafayette, LA. To outsiders, it would seem like she had the perfect life. She did well in school and had a lot of friends. Her parents were friendly and very generous as evidenced by the many neighborhood barbeques and pool parties they hosted. Unfortunately, this was merely a façade. Gerald, Sandra’s father, did drugs and was very abusive towards her mother, Jean. Sandra hated when they would fight, but she was too scared to do anything. Whenever the yelling started, she would run into the bathroom, close the door, and turn on the nightlight. Feeling helpless, she would lean against the wall, cover her ears, and stare at her reflection through teary eyes. Such was her life for as long as she could remember, and she didn’t think it would ever get better.


One night was particularly bad. Her father normally beat her mother unconscious and then stormed out of the house. Tonight, however, the pummeling continued long after Sandra heard her mother’s body hit the floor. He was killing her! She couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop it you monster!” she screamed from the top of the stairs. “What was that?!” her father growled, stomping to the stairs and looking up to face her. “Monster? I’ll show you a monster!” he yelled as she ascended the stairs. She stood there for a moment, paralyzed by fear. Run, Sandra, run! urged her brain. She willed her legs to move, and sped off to the bathroom. She barely had time to lock the door before her father reached it. He started banging and shouted, “Get out here so I can teach you a lesson!” Sandra curled into a ball on the floor and squeezed her eyes shut. Please, she thought, go away! Just leave and never come back! All of a sudden, the pounding stopped. She looked at the door, confused. Then she heard a voice. It called her name in an echoing, innocent tone. “Sandra….Sandra. I have seen what that horrible man has done. I can help you.” “Who’s there?!” she looked around the bathroom frantically. “How do you know my name?” “I am here child, just look into the mirror.” Slowly, Sandra got off the floor and looked into the mirror, but all she could see was her reflection. She started to think it was just her imagination when her reflection smiled and started to speak. “I am the other Sandra. I have the power to rid your life of everything that bothers you. Would you like my help?” “Y-yes, but how? How can you help me?” “All you have to do is stare into my eyes and wish for me to help, and I will do the rest.” Sandra was scared, but she was more scared of what her father would do if he got inside. Without anymore thought, she decided that she would let Other Sandra help her. She stared into her eyes and was immediately transfixed. “Good girl,” Other Sandra said, and she began to smile. Her smile grew bigger and bigger until it took over the bottom half of her face. Her teeth turned yellow and pointed, and her pupils became slitted. Sandra was completely horrified, but could only watch as Other Sandra got closer and closer to the mirror’s surface. She stuck out arm, and her fingers went through the mirror and into the bathroom. The rest of her body followed, and soon she was crouching on the bathroom counter. Sandra closed her eyes and tried to scream, but it was cut short as Other Sandra dove headfirst down her throat. Her body convulsed and rose off the floor. She then opened her eyes, revealing slitted pupils.


She floated back down to the floor as Gerald’s pounding resumed. Turning towards the door, Other Sandra waved her hand as it blew open with an incredible force, sending Gerald flying back into a wall. “What the—how the heck did you do that?!” he groaned, picking himself up and looking up at her. He stopped, and tilted his head to the side. “Wait a minute, what happened to you, Sandra? Your eyes, they’re different.” Other Sandra ignored the questions and walked towards him. She grabbed him by the throat and picked him up off the ground. “No! Don’t!” he croaked, his hands scraping at the fingers wrapped around his neck. “You aren’t Sandra! You’re…..you’re a monster!” She grinned, showing off those horrendous teeth. “Monster, you say? I’ll show you a monster!” The next morning, Sandra awoke in her bed. She remembered her parents had fought, but everything was fuzzy after that. She walked into her parent’s room, and stopped in her tracks. On the ground lay the bloody mangled body of her father. She screamed and ran out of the house. . . . Ten years later, Sandra sits on a bare bed and stares out of a window. The police had charged her with the murder of her parents, and she was sent to an asylum for the criminally insane. She tried to tell them that it was Other Sandra who killed her father, but no one would believe her. Day in and day out she could hear whispers outside her door. They were talking about her. They called her crazy, they were happy she was locked up. She wished for the whispers to stop. She wanted to be out of this prison, to go far away to a place where she could be away from everybody. Sounds like you need my help again, dear. I can make them stop saying horrible things about you. “No! Not again!” she screamed, clawing at her head. “Go away!” She runs into a corner and squats there rocking back and forth. Hearing her screams, the nurses rush into her room with some sedatives. They reach out to help her back into bed, when she turns around to face them. A force blows them across the room, and the woman laughs, glaring at them with slitted pupils.

The Other Sandra by Christine  

Mirrors? Reflections? Or is it a person really in there?

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