Bloody Image Bloody Image Bloody Mary has always been an interest of mine. It was always something that would scare me, but still I loved the concept. Fear is always a fantastic rush. Bloody Mary refers to the old game, in which you do a series of steps and the ghost of Mary Tudor would come out and kill you. Of course, there is little science or evidence based around this. There are hundreds of stories of doing the ritual and having success, having some of the most frightening images instilled in your mind. Yet despite this, nobody has ever successfully proved this legend to be so. Yet the fear was beginning to abstain, fear that had driven me. I decided that finally I was at a point where I wanted- no, I needed to do the legend. I invited a few of my friends over to attempt the ritual. They all believed I was joking, and when it became clear I was serious they were overwrought with fear. Still, their own curiosity got the better of them. I looked up the steps of doing Bloody Mary quickly on Ehow. It seemed simple enough. I would need a candle, a bathroom with a mirror, and some friends. These were all things that were readily available to me. As midnight struck we proceeded to go into the bathroom, a page printed out from the website on how to conduct the ritual. As all the lights were off a friend of mine shined a flashlight’s beam upon it. I looked down at it, placing it near the sink. I looked at my friends, who made it clear that they were willing to stay with me in the room, but they refused to do enact the ritual themselves. Sighing, I willfully reached toward the mirror. Due to the bare light I could scarcely make out my reflection. I turned on the facet. Apparently it was supposed to help because Mary heard water right before her demise. Right before she was murdered. The final part, and the most iconic one was the chanting. After a few moments of deliberation I managed to convince my friends to chant along with me. I told them that it was only an urban legend, and that nothing could conceivably go wrong by any stretch of the imagination. After all, ghosts do not exist, right? “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary…” 10….11….12….13…times. That was the iconic number. We stopped as a sigh went through the room. Even though my friends were afraid, there was some kind of nervous excitement among them. I felt the same. Suddenly I felt cold air go through me. I shivered, brushing it off as I looked toward the mirror. What I saw… what I saw… Will never leave me. It will never forsake me. I stare at these white walls, alone, outcast from all. My friends claimed nothing happened, and that I just had a panic attack. I remembered faintly running out of the bathroom, but after that everything is just a blur. They have given me so many medications it has become difficult what is real and what is not. Whenever I see my own reflection I see her. I see Bloody Mary. She always looks angry. She always wants to strike, but never can. I can never understand, I will never understand. None of it will ever make any sense. Legends are not real, right? - Heartless
Posted on: Fri, 30 Aug 2013 08:42:44 +0000
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