In my early teen years I had a party and my friends stayed the night. We decided that we would do "Bloody Mary" but with two people at a time for two reasons:
a) We were all pussies.
b) We all figured that some of us would lie if we went in alone. This way we had confirmation from two people, not just one.
John and I stepped into the bathroom and recited slowly over the candle that was held between us and the large mirror.
We waited, watching the mirror, looking around the edges of our own reflections for any hint of movement or a brutal murder about to happen to the two of us. Disappointment set in and I shrugged, looking at my own reflection.
It was smiling. I wasn't.