Going to goodwill had become one of my favorite errands, I loved the feeling of looking through discarded things and seeing their potential, their value. Just like anyone who combs through thrift stores I fantasized about finding something incredibly expensive that everyone else had missed.
A few days ago, that fantasy became a reality, or so I thought. Looking through the shelves filled with old appliances and the occasional questionably working DVD player my eyes suddenly darted to an old camera. It was rare that anything photography related stayed on the shelves long enough for me to scoop it up. But this wasn’t just an old camera, this was a Leica, or so I thought. Worth Thousands! Everything was right except the little red circle that should have been on the front, telling the world what it was. It would take away some value sure but its probably the reason it ended up on these shelves for me to find.
I hurriedly put down the t-shirts and pint glasses I had in my hand and went to the front of the store with my hidden gem tucked against my side. I waited in the checkout line with my heart racing, worrying that someone would realize my find and snatch it away. But they didn’t, I paid the 10 dollars on the price tag and rushed straight home.
I confirmed my camera was what I thought it was and then daydreamed on what I would do with the money from selling the camera. But I wanted to put at least a roll of film or two through it first. There was no way I would ever be able to buy a camera this nice, may as well know how it feels, learn what makes it so valuable. I sat in my room looking over the small silver case, saw my reflection in the lens. I was about to go to sleep but, on a whim, I held it up to my eye and began playing with the focus. It moved with ease. The advance lever bounce back sharply. The shutter snapped open and closed in the blink of an eye. I turned my gaze to the mirror and put myself in focus. That’s when I saw her.
A blue tinted figure behind me, peaking from behind the doorway. I lowered the camera and whipped around. Nothing. I thought it must have been a spec on the lens, I was seeing things. Nothing is there. I stepped into the hallway, nothing, silence. I was a bit embarrassed but my excitement for the camera was still strong. I went back into my room and once again lifted it to my face. There she was right in front of me, a beautiful young woman. Her entire body was blue, as if she was dipped in ink. She had short blonde (well lighter color blue) hair and big sad eyes. I jumped back in fear, the camera falling to my feet. And I was alone again. I left the room I walked around the whole house, turning on the lights as I went, to make sure I was alone. I was scared but curious too.
After a while I went back to the camera, picked it up off the floor, and looked through it again. I just saw my room, I panned it around until I got back to my bed where she was sitting now. She stood quickly and held her hands together pleading. This time I kept the camera to my face. I watched as her expression changed to relief. She walked across the room, slowly to make sure I was following her with the camera, until she got to the mirror. She had a tube of lipstick in her hand, she took it up to the mirror and made a line of blue, tinted the same way she was. Then she made another and another, spelling out “hello”.
I should have put the camera down, broken it. Shoved this experience into the furthest corner of my memory and never told a soul what happened. But something about her captivated me, I had been feeling more and more isolated lately. Her presence comforted me, lured me.
“Hello” I said out loud
Her smile made any misgivings I had about the situation fade. I knew it was unnatural but needed to know more. “My name is Will” I said
She quickly turned to write more on the mirror. She made a swoop on the “y” in Mary, her handwriting was beautiful.
“Nice to meet you Mary. What happened to you?”
She wrote for a minute or two, she had drowned in a riptide but “couldn’t let go”. She erased it, “couldn’t pass on”. She cleaned the mirror with her hand. “I’ve been so alone”
“How long have you been here?” I asked not exactly knowing where here was.
She looked at the ground for a moment before drawing “1962” in her gorgeous script. She turned and gave me a sad little smile. My heart went out to her. I looked out the window, still through the camera to see the sun beginning to come up. Mary followed my gaze and waved to get my attention. She quickly jotted down on the mirror: “Come see me again tonight please!”. And before I had time to answer the daylight flooded the room and she and the writing on the mirror were gone.
The time had flown by, luckily it was a Saturday, and I could afford to sleep through the morning. I overshot and woke up later that afternoon. I looked through the camera, nothing. I must only be able to see her at night. She was on my mind the rest of the afternoon and I waited patiently for the sun to go down again, I wanted to see her. I wanted to be with her. Once the last glimpse of twilight had faded, I picked up the camera again. She was there waiting for me, relief in her eyes. “Hello” was already written on the mirror. “Hello” I answered. I was relieved as well. In the light of day my experience last night was beginning to feel impossible, I was questioning my sanity.
She began writing a long message. “You have to help me; I can’t stay here anymore. I’ve been alone here for so long”
“You have me now” I interjected
She turned and gave me another big smile that gave me butterflies. Then went back to writing: “I am so glad I do. I want to be with you, really with you. You must let me out of the camera”
“I don’t know how. I can’t.” My head was beginning to ache keeping my eyes focused through the lens. She wiped away some of the writing and jotted down: “its easy let me show you”
I kneeled on the floor holding the razor. I knew this was wrong, I knew that this had gotten out of control. But I could not disappoint her, I couldn’t tell her no. I wanted to be with her, she was lonely like me. I sliced my finger and drew the 5-pointed star around the camera like Mary showed me. I drew the other symbols the way she drew them, I had to double check twice with what was drawn on the mirror. Both times I looked through the camera to consult her drawing she was standing over me, tears in her dazzling blue eyes.
When I had finished the drawing, I said the words in Latin that she had practiced with me. When I had finished I fell to the ground the room was freezing and smelled like death. That’s when I began to understand the gravity of my mistake. The camera lens cracked next to me. I reached out to touch it and recoiled as it burned my fingers. Panic was setting in.
“Mary! Mary!” I called out
“Where are you? Are you ok?”
No response. But I was not alone. I felt her presence, although instead of comfort all I felt was fear. I rushed over to turn on the lights. I sat in bed in the glow of the artificial light for the rest of the night. When I saw light return to the sky I felt safe enough to close my eyes. The ritual, whatever it did, had taken all my energy. Mary would not hurt me, even if she had not stayed with me like she said she would.
When I woke up the camera and the symbols were gone, the only thing that proved what I did last night even happened was the writing on the mirror: “Thanks” in Mary’s handwriting, but it was not her blue lipstick. It was a thick black liquid that smelled foul.
I don’t know what I did last night, I woke up feeling sicker than I ever have. I just need someone to know what happened just in case.