Demon in the mirror

Night came swiftly for me, as it always seemed to do. I went to bed early, I was afraid of my Father. II would try and close my eyes but could not. I noticed my closet door was crackling as it slowly opened.
Inside my closet was the old dark wood, standing mirror. I thought it beautiful but my Grandmother did not, she hated it because it once belonged to my Mother. I was so excited that she placed it in my closet instead of burning it in the fire place. Looking in the mirror as I laid in bed my eyes slowly closed and I fell asleep.
I woke early, went to my closet admiring its beauty, I shut my closet but not all the way because I wanted to glance at the mirror as I walked past my bedroom during the day I could see it still there.
Morning came and I got up early hoping to grab some thing to eat before my Father and Grandmother woke up. I did not see my Father on the couch where he slept. Looking around as I went into the kitchen I smelled a odor, a nasty odor. I walked to the back room where the awful smell seemed to be coming from. I opened the door and there were the bodies, what was left of them, torn into pieces covering the walls, the floor and the ceiling. I could not move for awhile, I was unable to.
I returned to my room, shaken, I sat on the edge of my bed and once again the closet door began to open. It saw me and I saw it. It was special to me.
I was sent from foster home to foster home. Most of the foster parents came up missing never to be found. I knew I would be alright, I would be safe, thanks to the old wooden standing mirror that I always kept with me that had once belonged to my Mother.