The girl in the mirror

The girl in the mirror is staring at me. As the plastic chair beneath squeaks with my uncomfortable movement, the girl moves in sync with me. Her brown eyes glistened from the bright light above the reflective wall. The tall man behind me shuffles around as he collects all the necessary equipment to fulfill the request I have asked for.

The girl in the mirror has a light trickle of sweat slowly slipping down her pale cheekbones. With a nervous glance, she nods her head barely, an indication that she is willing.

Finally, the man is ready. With a pair of silver scissors in hand, he asks, "Are you ready? There is no going back."

Taking a deep breath, the girl in the mirror and I lock eyes as determination radiates out. "Yes," my voice sounds broken and breathless.

With the final agreement, the man gently removes the hairband that keeps my long brown locks in a tight ponytail, allowing the soft tendrils to cascade over my shoulders, framing my already nervous face.

Taking a deep breath, I watch as the split-second decision silver scissors cut across my womanhood like a knife into soft butter.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

A sudden lightness hits my neck as if a weight has been lifted. Gone are the days of long hair, replaced instead with a pixie cut: short and sweet.

The girl in the mirror has a tint of a smile gracing her lips while watching the man trim and sculpt the new do.

In a matter of minutes, he is done, leaving the girl in the mirror wondering if this was the right thing to do. Sure, short hair is for men but looking at the mirror now, makes her think it could not possibly be.

"Do you like it?" The man ponders as he steps back, admiring his work from a further distance.

I meet the man's gaze in the mirror, a smile as wide as the ocean plastered on my face. "I absolutely love it."

After telling me I am all set, I give a final glance at the girl in the mirror. A faint recognition flares up, for I have seen her before, but I can not place where. Shrugging at the thought, I get up and go to pay for the new me.

As I walk along the crowded streets of a small town, the wind brushes through my short hair before tickling my bare neck, and a thought hits me.

The girl in the mirror knew who I was all along, I just had to cut off all of my hair to find her.

Thank you girl in the mirror. Thank you for giving me the strength to do what so few are capable of. As eyes linger on me for seconds before continuing on their path, I know what they must be thinking. The blue mask I wear is intended to protect, but now I wonder how it makes me look.

As the comfort and safety of my home loom before me, I relax. Dropping the bag on my bed, I head for the mirror. The girl is back as she stares at me, one I have yet to meet. Dragging my fingers through the silk strands, cold fingers all to soon meet the nape of my neck. Staring at the girl in the mirror, regret grips my heart. She might have agreed to this, but now I wonder if it was the right choice.

As night falls, boredom takes over. What else to do than play with my new do? Hair gel in one hand and brush on the other, I began working my magic. With makeup done and my short locks set, the girl in the mirror amazes me.

The girl in the mirror IS me for I glimpsed her earlier, but she slipped away. Ruby red lips spread wide, revealing perfect teeth as my smile broadened. She was right, for we are finally one. For I am the girl in the mirror, and I am unstoppable.