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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1871339-The-Girl-in-the-Mirror
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by Allie Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1871339
A girl describes her feelings after a break-up.
The Girl In the Mirror

I was suffocating, the world slowly fading around me. My lungs hungered for just a taste of air, but my lips would not part to take a breath. I glanced around the small space, searching for escape. Finding no relief, I panicked, and I felt my state of consciousness slipping out of grasp...

BOOM! I woke in a sweat as a thunderous crash ricocheted around the walls of my room. Blinding lightning flashed. It was only a dream... I reminded myself. I shook in terror. Memories stomped through my mind. Emotional suffocation. That part was not a dream.

Glancing at the ever-advancing-clock, I mournfully rolled out of bed. When I staggered into the bathroom, a pale-skinned, repulsive figure glared at me in the mirror, her sleep-ridden hair flying in blonde and purple strands around her head. I sighed in exasperation.

"What will I do with you?" I asked my monstrous reflection.

She only glared in response, her green eyes dull and distant. She followed me in every waking moment in which a reflective surface was visible. I shuddered. She couldn't possibly be me, could she? No. Not a chance.

"But who am I anyway?" I pondered aloud.

Startled, I realized I hadn't the slightest clue anymore. In days previous, perhaps I would have known. If only- No. I mustn't go there.

With great effort, I forced my eyes away from the mirror. A pang of pity arose in my throat, and tears mocked all effort to stop a storm from falling down my freckled cheeks. Only two days had passed since I'd been left to wallow in a well of shame. Crying had become a regular activity.

Turning the knob on the shower to "hot", balloons of memories floated around my thoughts, only to be popped by the reality of my current social situation. I closed my eyes for a second, pinched my arm forcefully, and opened my eyes once again. I felt as if I was stuck in another one of my nightmares.

I remembered how I had caught him staring at me when we were still together.

"Sorry, I can't help it," he'd said, looking down at me. "You're just so beautiful."

It seemed like so long ago. I turned towards the mirror once again, only to find the same monstrosity looking back at me. I knew now why he'd changed his mind. He must've been lying or hallucinating that day.

I pulled my towel over the shower curtain and got in, letting the warmth soak through my purple streaks. I remembered how a few days ago I had the purple put in my hair. I'd been feeling rebellious against myself, wanting to alter everything about me.

I turned the water off and dressed in my sweatshirt and jeans. It was time for the transformation. I pulled my hair back and covered my face in a mask of makeup. Piece by piece, my face looked more and more unlike me. It was the only way I would allow myself to leave the house, "masked", as he used to call it.

I walked down the stairs, grabbing my old, worn blue converse from my room. Tying the laces, I saw the old "forever and always" etched in black sharpie along the sides of the shoes. A strangling sadness crept up my throat.

I snatched a granola bar from the counter and headed out the door, messenger bag over my shoulder. It was a bright and beautiful day, a bird chirping. Shut up! I wanted to scream. You're the only one who's happy right now!

And there he was, walking around the corner to our bus stop. I looked for a nearby rock, wishing I could crawl underneath and disappear. A boy walked by casually, a new neighbor.

"You okay?" he asked, laughing. He must've seen the frazzled look on my face.

I glanced up. "Um, yeah, I'm Emma, by the way."

"Cool, I'm Noah. Do you take the bus here?"

"Yeah, I do. I can show you around when we get to school."

He smiled and followed me as we walked towards the bus stop.

I watched his blue eyes dance as we continued talking, full of life and excitement for the new school year. I smiled for the first time that day. It all felt like slow-motion. Unreal. Maybe I felt like I was still dreaming, a nightmare even, but, for the first time in a long time, I knew I'd be okay.


© Copyright 2012 Allie (alliecat13 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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