Abigail, Clover, and Mira were not my friends. To me, they were burdens. If they were not going to treat the middle class and the poor with respect and kindness, I wanted nothing to do with them. Sadly, no matter how many times I ordered them to leave me be, they never did. And they could care less if you called them spoiled rotten. They did not see anything wrong with their behavior.

Back in my old house, I would usually take a shower whenever I was under the weather or upset. I always showered after an encounter with the Burden Girls. I swear that I was getting stupider and stupider every time that they opened their mouths. They may be beautiful and rich on the outside, but they were stupid and rotten on the inside. Unfortunately, rotten and stupid stay forever.

"I am blessed that my beauty is on the inside," I said to myself as I walked down a hall.

There was no need to shower because I had taken one the day before we drove to Forlot, and as much as I wanted to, I decided to wash my face and arms. With the ghosts haunting this mansion and possibly every room, I was uncomfortable in taking a shower. I did not need them to walk in on me. That would traumatize me!

I entered the bathroom - not the one where the ghost tried to drag me into the drain - and stood in front of the sink. A clean mirror hung above the sink. My reflection was staring back at me. Next to the faucet was a stack of paper cups. I grabbed two cups and filled them with warm water.

I set one cup on the sink and held the other close so that I would not get water on the floor. I splashed the water on my face and rubbed it in, helping it get the dry and dirty patches of skin.

"Where is the soap?" I said.

I dried my eyes using a towel nearby and looked at my reflection. Something was odd about it. I could not put my finger on it...

...until I noticed the red pupils.

I was stunned. My pupils were not red! Was the restroom mirror actually a trick mirror?

The reflection's mouth opened wide - and thousands of black ants crawled out.

I was disgusted and kept myself from gagging. I glanced at the bathroom floor. No ants. The ants were not fictional real.

What do the ghosts want from me?