As the door closed behind our parents, leaving us alone for the weekend, my evil grin met my younger sister, Lily's uneasy gaze. I suggested that we play the spooky game of Bloody Mary for fun.

Lily hesitated, biting her soft lips. I teased her, calling her a scaredy-cat. She retaliated with a punch to my arm, and agreed reluctantly to play the game.

We crept upstairs, armed with a lone candle and a hand mirror as the game dictated. My excitement was infectious, and even Lily seemed to be more curious than scared now.

In the dim light of our bathroom, we stood in front of the old tarnished mirror. I took a deep breath and started chanting, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary..."

Suddenly, the candle flickered out. The room plunged into darkness. Lily screamed, clutching my arm. I could feel her trembling, but I was scared too. I had not expected this.

With a gasp, the bathroom mirror erupted into a blinding light. The silhouette of a woman slowly formed. She had a blood red dress and pale, lifeless skin.

It was Bloody Mary. She was real. My heart pounded in my chest as terror gripped us both. I had made a terrible mistake. What was supposed to be a harmless prank was now a horrifying reality.

Bloody Mary's hollow eyes seemed to bore into us. Her ghostly voice echoed in the room, “Why have you summoned me?” The cold terror that gripped me seemed to strangle my voice.

Steeling myself, I managed to stammer an apology, explaining that we didn't think she was real, it was just a game. I pleaded with her to let us go.

She merely laughed, her voice echoing around the room. She said we would learn a lesson for our disrespectful behaviour. Then, as quickly as she appeared, she vanished into thin air.

We darted out of the bathroom and into our respective rooms. What had begun as a playful evening had now turned into a panic-stricken night. Could we survive until mom and dad return?

That night, we huddled in my room. The fear of Bloody Mary kept us awake. The house had turned strange and creepy. Every creak, every whisper of the wind made us jump.

The next day, we noticed that things were not as we left them. Chairs were moved, cabinets were open, toys were misplaced. Was Bloody Mary haunting us?

The mysterious happenings continued over the next few days. We were scared to be alone, preferring to stay together, fearing what Bloody Mary might do next.

Seeking help, we googled how to get rid of Bloody Mary's curse. A ritual was suggested, which required us to apologize and promise never to disturb her again.

With newfound hope, we followed the instructions. We stood in front of the mirror, apologizing sincerely and promising never to summon her again. We waited, hoping for a sign of forgiveness.

The room suddenly got cold. It was as if someone was there with us, but we saw nothing. We felt a strange calm, and the room slowly returned to normal.

Over the next few days, the disturbances stopped. The house no longer felt creepy. We hoped that our apology ritual had worked, and Bloody Mary had forgiven us.

The day our parents returned, we rushed into their arms, relieved. We decided not to share our terrifying experience with them. They wouldn’t believe us anyway.

We retreated to our rooms and normalcy returned. But there was still a lingering fear of the darkness, a fear of what lurked within the shadows, a fear of Bloody Mary.

From that day, we never played games involving spirits again. We had learned our lesson. Bloody Mary was not just a legend, she was real. And we would never forget that.

It’s true that people say kids have an overactive imagination. But we knew what we had experienced. It wasn't our imagination; it was our terrifying reality.

The image of Bloody Mary was forever etched in our minds. Her haunting presence was a reminder of the respect we owe to things we don't understand – even if they're just old legends or ghost stories.

We grew close after the encounter, the experience bound us together. We survived a nightmare that could have been so much worse. It changed us, made us stronger.

As we grew older, the memory of the events faded, but the lesson stayed. We would always remember, deep down, the haunting of Bloody Mary. A reminder of the terrifying reality that followed a simple prank.