Mirror Me (An Erotic Ghost Story) Censored Version

By K. E. Frederick

Once a comforting companion, Willow’s presence was quickly becoming, not only a menace, but a threat. Baylan could feel Willow getting stronger as she felt her own spirit weaken. Trapped in a world of nothingness, Baylan’s adversary was tired of an existence of borrowed memories and stolen moments. Determined to live the life, which fate had deprived her, Willow was ready to take charge.

Baylan’s search for a way to hold on to her existence, uncovers the possibility of love to enter her lonely life, something she had never dared to dream. During an interview to participate in a paranormal study at the University of Arizona, she discovers Justin, as well as a chance for help. His quest for information about supernatural worlds holds the promise of the answers she needs. The fact that he can see Willow in the mirror is monumental, giving her a glimmer of hope. Until now, only Baylan’s best friend, Gage, could see Willow. A constant in their lives, he was the lone companion of the pair. The unique relationship shared by the trio, leads Willow to an avenue of escape, as errant spirits from another dimension, aid in her pursuit of Baylan’s life.

On her ghostly quest for control, Willow learns to absorb and manipulate energy, allowing her to invade Baylan’s dreams with vividly realistic erotic encounters. When she is able to take possession of Baylan’s physical being, Willow makes up for lost time, as she uses Baylan’s body to explore a variety of earth-bound pleasures.

As Justin and Baylan investigate resources to protect her from a diabolic infestation, they recruit the assistance of Delmarva, ex-beauty queen and psychic/medium extraordinaire. Her quirky metaphysical methods give them a sense of security, albeit a false one. A ghostly presence in Justin’s life also joins them, becoming a pivotal weapon in Baylan’s battle for dominance.

Since the loss of his twin brother, years before, Justin’s heart has been shut down. Unsuccessful attempts to ease his pain, with amorous attention from girls, have closed it down even further. When Baylan enters his life, she draws something wonderful from him. By joining Baylan in her fight for existence, he finds the opportunity to save himself as well. Her struggle with Willow’s presence has caused Baylan to lead a sheltered and secluded life. Keeping her beauty veiled behind a wall of insecurity, her soulful eyes were so often hidden behind the protective barricade of her bangs. Justin could see the beauty that she kept concealed; he could see her soul. His desire to help Baylan free her spirit from Willow’s, and watch her blossom into her own, ignites unknown passions, enabling them to love and live their lives completely. During their fight with unseen forces, they struggle to overcome their personal demons as they find a larger purpose. As her nemesis falls from grace, to enact her plan for total domination, Baylan and Justin find a chance to fall in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. E. Frederick
• Release date: May 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301537259

Book preview

PROLOGUE

A Mirror World

The ethereal nothingness enveloped him as he drifted effortlessly to her, his desire guiding the essence of his being. Swirls of diaphanous mist lingered in the eternal void surrounding them as she moved toward him.

When he reached for her hand, their fingers didn’t touch; they melded into a shared space. An eruption of sensation flooded his non-corporeal being, a combustible force igniting from within.

He tried to process the impossibility of nonexistent nerves, raw with passion. Peering into her soft brown eyes, he watched her lift the corners of her mouth in a heartfelt smile when she told him, I hoped you would come.

They embraced and were amazed when their bodies merged, blending in a cohesive manner: instant vertex, no stimulation or penetration needed. As shared sensations circulated between their intertwined essences, he could feel her thoughts saturate his soul: love and commitment, adoration and contentment.

When they kissed, they discovered a surreal level of pleasure, being in a place without limitations of time, space or gravity, amazingly sensational, even though non-tangible.

Lowering his lips to meet hers, they melded together in an ephemeral blend of their spirits. The euphoric sensation hit him like a wall of Jello, as he could not only feel his own magnified excitement, but also hers. It was like he was inside her mind as well as her body. He opened his eyes and saw his own amazement reflected in hers.

What’s happening? she asked as she swirled her hand through his misty shoulder. It’s like we’re here … but not. He gave his most wicked of grins as he pulled her close again and their chests intermingled. I can feel your mind. The feeling of instant apogee, again, exploded through both of them. He was struck by the lack of physical effort it took.

Wow! she exclaimed. What is that?

Oh my God, this is amazing. Gravity not being an issue, he twirled her around in a full circle. I can feel your body, your soul, every pore. He knew that she would never be more secure in her belief in him. He could sense every fiber of his true feelings for her, as they wove throughout the essence of her being.

She glowed with contentment as she settled up against him again. He returned his arms around her, being careful to pull her very gently toward him; not that he wouldn’t want to repeat whatever that was that they were just able to do. This could ruin you for earth bound pleasures if you weren’t careful, he laughed, filled with joy.

She asked him, "Is this what they could be doing?"

A Matched Pair

Baylan sat in front of the mirror on her vanity table, same as every morning. She mechanically applied her make-up, trying to ignore the droning sound of the familiar nagging. She wasn’t being haunted by the voice of a parent, telling her to hurry or even a roommate telling her what not to wear. She had a much more annoying presence with which to contend: a reality that was much more difficult to tune out, her friend in the mirror.

When she looked at her mirror image, on the surface, for just a moment, she saw herself. Then, the medium length brown hair, boring light brown eyes and plain face that should have been reflecting back to her drifted. Down deeper, she saw someone totally unlike herself.

Mirror me, she thought.

A mirror opposite? Maybe.

An unwanted presence? Surely. A presence that had worn out its welcome.

When she was little, Baylan found her constant companion comforting. Now, it was getting old. Most mornings, her banter was limited to criticism of fashion choices. Today was no different.

That lip shade is too dark for you to pull off; you’ll look like a hooker, especially if you’re planning to wear those boots. Then again, what kind of decent hooker would be caught dead smelling like vanilla; please, can you be more boring?

I swear Willow; if you don’t shut up I’m going to scream! Baylan sent the thought into the reflective surface as she applied an extra spray of her favorite vanilla body spray.

Go ahead and scream. All it’ll get you is, yet another trip to a shrink. Willow laughed, then tossed her long, straight Barbie blonde hair from side to side. Lips, also courtesy of the Barbie look, were hot pink. Feigning disapproval of her own chosen lip color, Willow made her image reflect the true, deep burgundy color of the lipstick in question.

I just wish you would leave me alone for once. I need to get ready for class, you know. Resorting to her tiny hand mirror, in order to continue her minimal make-up routine; Baylan kept the telepathic conversation going. Despite her desire to rid herself of Willow, she feared that it was a lost cause; a war she would never win. This morning Baylan chose her battles carefully. Today, she needed Willow’s cooperation more than ever before. Baylan was treading lightly into uncharted territory. She needed a favor.

I know you just want attention and I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, but you know how hard I have been working at school. She studied the mirror, searching for a hint to the response she would receive from her unpredictable companion.

Nothing.

Subtly, Baylan reached for a tissue and rubbed it against her lips, reconsidering the color.

After a moment contemplating, Willow’s scrutiny now aimed at Baylan’s mind rather than her make-up and wardrobe, she asked with the confidence of knowing the answer, You want me to skip the big interview? Is that what you’re about to ask me?

I hate it when you get inside my head like that. Quit it! Baylan turned away from the mirror, and the antagonistic image that it reflected. She knew that she couldn’t escape Willow’s presence, but she didn’t have to look at her.

She had not told Willow about the interview. Somehow, she knew. Scheduled for the next day, it was her only hope to try to figure out what she was up against. She needed to keep Willow in the dark about the details so she couldn’t foil her plans.

Baylan was sure that Willow went away sometimes, leaving a welcome open space in her existence. Someplace else, a place she had never known, but was sure that at certain times, she could feel a definite difference, a lack of Willow’s presence. She would have to make good use of those occasions if she was going to be able to keep control of herself.

As expected, the voice in Baylan’s head went on. I’ve been practicing, can you tell?

Could she tell? It felt like a tickle, an itch that could not be reached, deep in the center of her brain—a very disconcerting sensation, to say the least. She was also pretty sure that Willow had invaded her dream world. Yes, I can tell, and I want you to stop. It’s an invasion of my extremely limited privacy. Just please promise, promise that you’ll stay away tomorrow. I don’t know what you want from me, Willow?

Simple; I want more than your attention. I want you. Willow didn’t let that last thought travel to Baylan’s consciousness. She was getting better at shielding her own thoughts, as well as reading Baylan’s. For most of her existence, she had planned and practiced, knowing that one day, she would be strong enough to take control.

Willow knew that she was not the result of a psychological disorder. A multitude of trips, over a period of years, to the best head doctors in the country had confirmed that Baylan was not likely to go Cybil on anybody.

She also knew that she existed, connected to Baylan, ever present, however separate.

The plan was simple and in full swing. Progress was being made with ease, her power growing almost daily. Slowly, after years of wishing, Willow was finally ready to try the next step of her life long plan.

Learning to shield the thoughts that she didn’t want Baylan to know was only one of her latest accomplishments. Years ago she had acquired the skills of projecting her altered image and attire and more recently, entering Baylan’s dreams. With the addition of her new capabilities, reading her unsent thoughts, collecting energy and, best of all, redirecting that energy, she was almost ready.

A few years ago, when they were eighteen, Willow drifted into one of Baylan’s dreams. When she had her own dreams, the typical scenario was one of escape. She realized then that she was able to meld with Baylan’s mind in their shared being. It was merely a matter of gaining energy and learning to control it. Since then she had been practicing, honing her skills. She could now enter Baylan’s dreams at will, absorbing bits and pieces of her vital energies, without the fear of detection. She was even learning subtle ways to manipulate them. Willow laughed to herself at the thought of her most recent endeavors into Baylan’s subconscious.

When Baylan was tired, Willow could read her thoughts, more specifically, the ones that were not intended for her. With knowledge came power, and she felt strong.

The next step was to attempt to take over, live life with the body she was deprived. The way Willow saw it, she was owed. For twenty-one years, she had waited, and watched, as Baylan lived a life that could have—should have been hers.

No more, thought Willow, It’s my turn now.

The Boy Next Door

After her classes, Baylan walked toward the campus library to meet up with Gage, her best friend. The plan was to work on her paper and then she would be his guinea pig for a project he was working on. He was the perfect study partner, a master at reading and then condensing research into precise bullet points, like a walking, talking Cliff’s Notes.

As she passed the student union, she watched clusters of students circling tables and benches throughout the courtyard. She fantasized about belonging to a group of friends. The easy camaraderie that exuded from the companionship, that she witnessed from afar, was the stuff of dreams.

Baylan had never accepted invitations to other kids’ homes, no parties, especially sleepovers. She was always afraid of the mischief Willow would inevitably cause. Keeping to herself at school, her only real friend was Gage; he knew her secret. Around him she could be herself, without the fear of someone thinking she was crazy if Willow acted up. She was famous for popping up in random reflective surfaces at the worst moments.

Being as anti-social as she was, she really relied on Gage for companionship. He too was not known for his social skills. They grew up living next door to each other and were constants in each others lives. He ate dinner at her house more often than he did at his own.

They shared a special bond beyond their friendship; he could see Willow.

Baylan remembered the first time he saw her. She was seven; she and Gage were playing in mud puddles that had been created by a heavy afternoon rainstorm. Baylan plopped down next to a deep watery puddle, with its shiny, reflective surface shimmering in the shafts of sunlight breaking trough the heavily clouded sky.

Gage assumed his usual position, right beside Baylan. As he too dropped into a comfortable seat on the muddy ground, his sandy colored hair flounced across his bright, blue eyes. As soon as she caught a hint of Willow reflected in the glassy surface of the puddle, Baylan noticed him looking intently at the watery mass. She worried about the sudden interest in a simple mud puddle. He must be thinking about this puddle being the best ever for our mud pies, she thought. Then she saw it, the spark of recognition that sent her heart into a flutter.

Gage looked away from the watery version of Baylan’s face, turning to gaze at the real one, the look of confused realization making his expression humorous.

He looked back to the puddle and asked, Who is that?

Shocked, Baylan stuttered out, Wh … who is what?

Gage turned back to look her in the eye and said, In the puddle. Who is that? His look of confusion changed to one of determination as he went on. I can tell it’s not you Baylan, just look.

He pointed at her shirt and said, Your shirt is blue, turning his finger to the puddle, he continued, hers is red. How can that be?

Since that day Gage had been possessed; consumed with curiosity and determined to figure out how Willow existed. He pursued scientific knowledge in his academics, always coming up with new research and stories about paranormal phenomena. The result was an uber-nerd of unusual dimension.

Baylan was waiting at the front entrance to the library when she saw Gage headed her way. She watched him as he walked toward her, his gait long and sure. To look at him, no one would ever guess that he was introverted and painfully shy. He looked the part of tall, handsome frat boy, with his strong sculpted features and fashionable clothes. His mom was a fashion catalog junkie, keeping hope alive that a current look could help with her campaign to, someday, be a grandmother. His great smile, thick blonde hair and athletic build completed the look.

The inner Gage was a complex conundrum. His mind was always going a mile a minute with his endeavors, seeming to have little or no interest in other people’s lives or activities, except, of course for Baylan—and Willow.

A group of girls exiting the library took notice of Gage; all began to preen and present themselves as he walked by. He, as usual, was oblivious to the attention afforded him. Hey Baylan, ready to study? In his own world, he passed her, heading for the doors.

She shook her head and laughed, You are so clueless sometimes. Did you even notice those girls flirting with you?

He looked back at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. Girls, what girls?

She grabbed his arm and let him pull her along as she continued, "We have got to get you out more. You spend entirely too much time with Willow and me."

I like spending time with Willow … and you. Besides, if I weren’t with you I would probably be by myself at home anyway. I have nothing to say to these people. He waved his hand around the general area, including any and all in his statement.

When they found a quiet corner table, they spread out their books and notebooks. Gage flopped into a chair and looked up to Baylan with a worried expression. His usual carefree mood replaced by one of concern.

She asked him, Is everything okay?

Sure, what could be wrong, I um … I’m just preoccupied with an experiment that has me perplexed, that’s all. He fidgeted with his backpack before placing it on the floor next to his chair.

Baylan persisted, Are you sure? You’ve been acting strange lately.

What do you mean strange? You have no quantitative evidence to cause you to arrive at that conclusion. I’m fine, just preoccupied, like I said.

Normal people call it a hunch or maybe deductive reasoning, even an educated guess. You’ve been really tired a lot. Are your experiments keeping you up at night?

The look of shock and possibly embarrassment that emanated from him surprised her. She thought, What did I say?

He seemed anxious to change the subject as he quickly asked her, So, you’re still going to help me after we work here for a while, right?

Yeah, sure; what are you working on anyway? You’ve been awfully secretive about it. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her as she spoke the words. She was the one keeping a secret. She hadn’t told Gage about her interview the next day. It hadn’t seemed fair to put him into the position of having to keep the secret from Willow. Even though she found out about the meeting, she didn’t have details. Baylan didn’t want to risk leaking those details via him; she just wanted to keep him out of the whole thing.

No, no I haven’t. I just had a lot of configurations to analyze before I needed your assistance, that’s all. I’ll tell you all about it later. Now we need to concentrate on your paper. He was unusually distracted as he rearranged the books in front of him.

Baylan decided to chalk it up to his quirky ways. As usual, I’m surprised that I’m surprised. She powered up her laptop and started to read some research that she had downloaded.

While Gage seemed to refocus on the task at hand, she paused to ask him, Hey, do you think I’ll have time for a run before we work on your deal? If you don’t have a time table, that is.

Yeah, sure, whenever will be fine; no time constraints.

He knew how much she loved the freedom that running gave her. It was her truest escape from Willow; she could really be alone. Her location of choice was the track. The endless oval allowed her to clock mindless miles as she listened to music and tuned out the world. Roadside runs were riddled with obstacles and peril, not to mention car exhaust; basically, not worth it unless you were trying to get somewhere specific.

Great, I’ll go right after we finish here then you can come over for dinner. We can get started after we eat, if that works for you.

Mention of her grandmother’s cooking perked him up. Grams told me she was planning her taco fiesta. His eyes glazed over as he went on, Her tacos are exceptional.

Baylan laughed and said, Grams always says that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I guess I get it. You’re the poster boy.

That evening, Baylan sat at the kitchen table cutting carrots and potatoes into small pieces for her grandmother’s truly amazing tacos. Gage never missed them. Baylan had put in an extra couple of miles on her run, to counteract their calorie content.

Her attention was torn between her grandmother, who was standing at the sink rinsing lettuce, and the window over the sink, where she saw Willow’s reflection seemingly watching dinner preparations.

Suddenly, Willow focused her attention on Grams as Baylan heard the thought, Baylan, you’ll never get rid of me.

What was that, sweetie? Grams asked absentmindedly as she continued to wash vegetables.

I didn’t say anything, just chopping away. I did want to ask you something though.

What’s that, Hon?

Do you remember when I was little and I talked to my friend, my mirror friend?

Of course I do. Willow. She used to really freak out your dad, didn’t she?

What would you say if I told you that I still see her?

Well, I would say that you were lucky to have such a special connection.

What do you mean ‘connection’?

Your dad never wanted to talk about it, and I have always honored his wishes, but I think you have a right to know; you’re a grown woman.

Baylan felt a chill of terror, but had to know. What is it?

He and I had many an argument over her. Every time he wanted to take you to another doctor, I would try to tell him, but he just wouldn’t listen.

Grams, please, tell me.

I always believed that she was the spirit of your twin.

Baylan felt stunned, but on some level, it sounded right. That could explain a lot, she thought. She asked, But how?

Grams turned back from the sink to face Baylan. She was your twin, but her poor little body didn’t get the chance to be born into this world. I always thought that her soul attached itself to yours somehow. She couldn’t bear to leave you. Her voice cracked as her weathered face took on a sad, beleaguered expression. I’ll tell you, it puzzled me to no end when you were an itty bitty little thing and started calling her Willow. That was when your daddy could no longer pretend that you were talking to an imaginary friend. He knew that the name on that poor child’s death certificate was … Willow. Tears began to fall down her cheeks. They named her Willow. How could you know that?

Baylan was flabbergasted; How could Willow be my sister? She is the enemy, an invader, isn’t she? Grams went on, Anyway, dear, you can’t just get rid of her. She’s there. Spoken as fact, she returned her attention back to the vegetables in the sink.

Baylan rose to leave the kitchen. She needed to contemplate this theory. Before she left the room, she looked back to the window reflecting the dim image of her nemesis. Willow let a slow maniacal smile form, as she lifted her hands to her neck to form the international sign for choking.

Baylan wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a direct threat or merely a general commentary on Willow’s desire to eliminate her.

Later that night Baylan reluctantly succumbed to slumber. Letting go of her delicate control, even to sleep, was getting harder to do every day. She could feel Willow’s active invasion of her sub-conscious, Baylan wondered how much influence Willow had gained over her dreams. Willow had already saturated the waking hours of Baylan’s life; now she felt like she was in danger of losing her dream world too.

A series of recent dreams had been especially unsettling, their sensual nature, becoming increasingly intense. The sexual tone made her wonder if it was all Willow’s doing or if her own sensual self was begging to be set free.

As she felt her mind surrendering to sleep, the images began to assault her. Baylan knew that she was asleep, but, somehow she did not feel alone. The new dreams that invaded her only truly private time were becoming a regular occurrence, but they all had seemed very vague and intangible. Tonight, however, was very different. Abstract sensations accompanied the detached, vivid images; a touch, a tingle. Although she felt the anxious hands that caressed her body, the face of her phantom lover remained unclear, hidden behind a veil of shadows.

She could feel her bed beneath her, but she was surrounded by nothing; no walls, no floor, no ceiling in sight. Their disorienting absence served to create an oddly claustrophobic sensation; like she was floating, but trapped in her bed.

Feelings, physical and emotional, flooded her being as lips wandered down her neck to areas unfamiliar with their touch. Shivers slithered along her skin, lingering traces of fingers. Tremors trembled through her body, passing remnants of passions. A kiss lingered longer than she could have hoped for, the intimate connection an alien sensation, but an intriguing conundrum to be sure. She relished the pleasurable stimuli, just as she feared their origin. A shiver of anticipation surprised her as she wondered where he would touch her next.

Seeing Is Believing

Baylan walked the ominous hallway toward her destiny. If I can’t get into this program, I don’t know what I’ll do, she thought.

The frosted glass window of the heavy wooden door displayed the name Professor Henry Whitfield, painted in a shiny gold.

It occurred to her that she was lucky that the glass was frosted. Its matte surface was relatively non-reflective. No Willow to look back into her nervous face.

Willow had promised that she would stay away from the interview; however, keeping her word was not one of Willow’s strong suits. In the past, there had been many broken promises. Experience had taught Baylan that today, she should expect no different.

As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a hallway window. She turned slightly to peer into the smooth surface of the glass. She saw only herself, surely a good sign.

She proceeded to rap her knuckles on the wood frame of the office door. After a brief moment, the door swung open to reveal an unexpected inhabitant. A very young, very handsome virtual wall of gorgeous guy stood on the other side of the door. He reached his hand toward her as a smile crossed his face. Caught off guard, she hesitated, then extended her hand toward his; she had been expecting a much older man. Confusion flooded her mind. Who was this stunning guy and where was the old college professor?

The young man answered the questions asked only with her eyes. Hello, I’m Justin Parker, Professor Whitfield’s assistant. He wrapped his warm hand around hers.

Not sure why she was not responding, Baylan gave herself a mental kick as she realized that she had extended her hand toward his and matched the pressure of his grip. She tested her voice, Baylan Hodge, I have an appointment with Professor Whitfield.

I’m so sorry, but he got called away. He asked me to conduct your interview, if that’s okay with you, that is.

Baylan wasn’t sure. She was nervous enough as it was, expecting to meet with the Professor, but this cute guy made her nervous in an entirely different way. Somehow, oddly, he also seemed to put her at ease.

Following the totally unfair rules of nature, the amazing male specimen standing in front of her, out-shone most. His broad shoulders and square jaw reflected perfection of the human form. Thick waves of longish dark hair swirled around his chiseled features, flowing over his collar and framing the tan work of art that was his face. Hypnotic, misty green eyes the color of the sea, gazed at her from under long dark lashes that any girl would die for. Rippling muscles moved under his taut navy blue University of Arizona t-shirt, not an ounce of fat on his firm six-foot plus frame. An impossibly charming smile and the slightest of indentations on his strong chin rounded out the package.

Sure, I guess that would be okay, if Professor Whitfield wanted you to.

He gestured toward a pair of chairs facing a massive dark wood desk. She walked over to claim one and tentatively sat. Justin made his way around to the far side of the desk, looking almost juvenile as he assumed the position usually held by a much more mature resident. Despite his size, he seemed dwarfed by the giant sides and tall back of the leather wing back chair.

He proceeded to ask her questions. So, you’re interested in working with our intern program?

Yes, so much. This study here is what I would like to work on. It mentions paranormal research. She handed him a flier she had found at the library a few days earlier.

Since you came alone, I assume you aren’t here for the twin aspect of the study.

Baylan had noticed that a need for twins was listed on the flier. Given what her grandmother had told her about Willow being her twin, the coincidence had actually freaked her out a little. I didn't think so.

Excuse me?

I’ll do whatever, I really need to participate.

You need to, what do you mean?

Well, besides the class credit, my main motivation is to find out more about … a way to … She looked away in a panic. She didn’t know this guy. Was she going to tell him her biggest secret? She was sure he would laugh at her. As she struggled with her response, she noticed that Justin was looking off to the side of the room. She let her eyes follow the direction of his stare.

In the corner, surrounded by a wall of ancient looking books, she saw a wood framed, easel backed, full-length mirror.

A mirror! She exclaimed internally. Willow no, you promised.

As she silently pleaded, she saw exactly what she had been dreading. Smiling back at her was the uninvited and unwelcome image that she knew so well. Afraid of what she would see, she turned her attention back to the young man who apparently held her future in his hands. To her surprise, she saw a look of amazement on his handsome face as he stared toward the mirror.

He slowly looked away and back toward Baylan. After a brief glance up and down, he quickly looked to the mirror again. A strange smile formed on his face as he looked, once again, back to Baylan and said, Can you see her? His voice had a tone of barely restrained excitement. He made her think of a kid who just laid eyes on Santa Claus or the Easter