Life of Mirrors

The imperfection of it all is what kept her looking.

A thirteen-year-old girl with broad shoulders and rough skin gazed at herself in the mirror, wishing for a change so instantaneous that it would heal her. It would heal her rotten mind from clawing at her from the insides and rewriting the gears of her brain - it would heal everything.

The flaws that she found on the outside of herself had never been pointed out. Her lab partner had never pointed out her slightly thin hair, and her teammate had never pointed out her barely round jawline.

Yet, every time she looked, she just found more and more. Her body seemed to warp and alter when she blinked - her skin got rougher by the minute and her teeth got more crooked. It was like a moth to a flame, the way her disgust was drawn to the mirror.

Her mother came into her room and asked if she wanted dinner. The girl stared at her stomach, which seemed to be growing larger by every word her mother spoke. She declined the offer of dinner, and she went back to staring.

Her father came into her room and asked if she wanted to watch a football game. The girl shook her head, thinking about how her broad shoulders often made her feel too masculine. The father shut the door on his way out, and the girl went back to staring.

Day by day, the mirror cracked and crumbled. Dust came down from the ceiling, and her mother and father slowly disappeared. A forty-two-year-old woman gazed at herself in the mirror, wishing for time to slow down. She was practically glued to her reflection.

The flaws that she uncovered hadn’t been touched upon - her daughter never pointed out her wrinkled skin, and her son didn’t notice her weight increasing. Yet, her insecurities consumed her. She often wondered if she should get plastic surgery like the other moms.

Her daughter came into her room and asked if she wanted to drive her to soccer practice. The woman shook her head because she didn’t want to sit on the sidelines with the younger and fitter moms. Her daughter sighed sadly and shut the door. The woman went back to staring.

Her son came into the room and asked if she wanted to make him lunch. The woman said no, because she didn’t want to be tempted by the food in the kitchen. The son went downstairs and reluctantly grabbed an old roll of crackers from the cupboard. The woman went back to staring.

One day, many years later, the woman was left alone. It was simply her and her mirror. She never found love herself, for she couldn’t find it within her own mind. Her children moved out, and she stayed - always staring at herself.

She never heard the fire start - she never heard the roar. She never heard the glass shatter or the staircase collapse. All she ever saw was the mirror. And for the most horrific moment of her life, the mirror went up in flames first. It crackled and cried as it was consumed. The woman was left alone, with nothing to look at - aside from the only world she had created for herself being destroyed.