Written by Razalii Kitt
© 2016 by Razalii Kitt
Jack had been assigned to station the lighthouse, at the top of the hill, for a single night in the autumn, for the last five years. Tonight, he was surrounded by a crisp and chilly air that was evident by the way his breath misted it up. He never had visitors at the lighthouse, but tonight he felt particularly lonely and wished for company, that’s when a young woman silently came up the winding lighthouse stairs, to the very top of the lighthouse tower. The young woman wore a simple cotton dress, and she was covered in violet scars and her black hair was cut off at her shoulders.
Jack didn’t know if he should be pleased or concerned that he had company. The closest town was five miles out, and the lighthouse was the furthest thing from the town of Geoda. Jack had certainly never encountered a ghost before, which he believed this young girl to be with her moonlit apparition.
“Where did you come from?” Jack asks fearlessly, even though the girl stayed rather emotionless and was hard to read. She walks over to the window and points down into the dark water below.
“You come from the water?” Jack asks the fair girl, hesitantly.
She nodes her head and walks over to the large mirror propped up by the cement wall. She places her hands on the glass mirror and beacons Jack to come closer, which he does, out of curiosity. In the mirror he sees dark waters, and in a far off distance there is an underwater castle, lit by luminous fish that are swimming in groups around it.
The girl points her finger at Jack and then at herself, and finally into the vision of the sea in the mirror. She raises her small hand out for him to grab. “What is your name?” The girl raises eight fingers. “Your name is eight?” She nods her head once again and points back to the mirror. “I can’t go with you, I have to watch the lighthouse.” Jack says, perusing the way the girl’s scars were now glowing like an electric eel.
The girl named eight crosses her finger over her heart in the shape of an X. She turns away from Jack and walks through the mirror and disappears. The cold in the air intensifies and the burning candle stick on the dinner table blows out.
Jack puts his face up against the solid mirror’s glass, that no longer shows the vision of the sea. How had she done that, he wondered. Five seconds later a small dripping hand comes through the mirror. Jack had never had an adventure in his life, so he reached for Eight’s hand and decided to leave the world he knew behind, for now at least.