Every Saturday night, at the stroke of midnight, it's the same. Candles are lit, children gather, and amidst the giggles and shoving they begin chanting. They stand before a mirror calling out to Her in chorus understood only by those who still believe. Sometimes she appears, sometimes she doesn't, but each time reminds Her of the limbo she has been condemned to.
The candle flickered softly in Jeremy's hands casting a soft glow upon the porcelain sink, the small toilet to his left, and the large mirror before him. He didn't really want to do this but, with sleep over buddies waiting just outside the closed door, he couldn't chicken out now. He would be forever labelled, unable to face the play ground, the teases and taunts already swirling in his head. No, he needed to do this.. He had already started and there was no going back.