She had heard about it at school... the old urban legend that if you stood in a darkened room with a mirror and said her name three times,
 
Bloody Mary one...
 
Bloody Mary two...
 
Bloody Mary three...
 
and then turned on the light, that she'd be right there with you in the reflection: bloody, awful, and terrible.
 
The other kids swore it worked.
 
There were a few that rolled their eyes and said nothing happened when they tried, but the one or two that swore it had worked?
 
Well their claim was compelling.
 
At the dinner table that night she had mentioned the whole thing to her family. 
 
Her mom rolled her eyes, her younger sister perked up and her dad grinned and said they should give it a try.
 
The two girls looked at each other, eyes wide with anticipation as they began to scarf down their dinner.
 
Their dad ate slowly. They implored him to hurry. They cleaned the table at break neck speed and then ran upstairs, impatiently waiting at the top step for their dad to finish up dinner. 
 
They could have tried it right then and there, alone... yet neither one of them, nervous that maybe it indeed did work, offered that idea up.
 
When what seemed like an eternity had passed their dad made his way up the stairs and the two girls ran into the bathroom.
 
The three of them stood in the bathroom staring at the mirror. They were laughing, the girls just a tad nervous but unwilling to admit their hesitation.
 
Before starting the youngest one asked to be picked up... not because she was scared of course, but because if her dad was holding her, she would be able to see into the mirror much easier.
 
Their dad chuckled. He knew they were scared but he didn't let on. 
 
And when he asked if they were ready they both breathed deep and said they were. 
 
The lights were cut and the bathroom became pitch black.
 
Bloody Mary one...
 
they said.
 
Bloody Mary two...
 
the anticipation building.
 
Bloody Mary three...
 
just the littlest bit of apprehension...
 
and then the lights were on. 
 
The girls began screaming. Blood curdling screams as they looked at their reflections in the mirror. 
 
Dad's face was bloody.
 
The youngest managed to kick away from her dad, the oldest was already out of the bathroom running down the stairs when her sister joined her, the two of them screaming...
 
And there was dad, laughing hysterically, a red Halloween make-up crayon in his hands.