Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.

I hadn't even noticed at first.

Like A Prayer was playing in the background as I removed my clothes ( high heels and mini-skirt) to get ready for bed. The makeup took forever to wipe off, I was yawning and could barely find the patience to wipe it all off. Without it, I looked like a cat fished out of water... But I was out of the club now, no need to be pretty anymore.

Some said I was pretty... in my opinion, there was a lot to be improved before earning that title. I was plain at best. If only I had fuller lips, some kind of arched eyebrow, something that commanded respect... And my acne wouldn't let alone, and I loved chocolate too much to quit... And it showed on my waistline too, not just my complexion...

I sighed as I gave a hard glance over at my reflection. I bet I would look like my mother when I got older, and that was not an encouraging thought.

Ugh, another blackhead! I popped it before grabbing my toothbrush, if I kept on with this inspection, I would never go to bed, there would always be some other reason to be unhappy.

Not everyone was Claudia Schiffer...

I bent over to spit out the toothpaste and wash my mouth and when I looked up again, I jumpstarted.

It wasn't my reflection in the mirror anymore. It looked scared, like I did, it was following my every movement, it was wearing my clothes, but it was not me. I got cold sweat just looking at it, I blinked more than twice, closed my eyes and peeked through trembling fingers.

Still the same.

And yet I had not even had one drink today!

"It's a dream, a nightmare, " I said, just to hear my own voice.

This monster in the mirror, why was it there? If I went to sleep, if I left the bathroom, would it follow? Or was it just a bad glitch of the mind, and it would seem like a bad dream tomorrow?

"Help me, " the reflection said, startling me out of bounds. The voice was rusty, as though affected by years of alcohol and cigarette abuse. I was simply terrified.

"Who... who are you? " I asked hesitantly. The synchronism seemed to have been broken.

She wasn't doing the same as me anymore, she was her own person. Somehow that made me feel better.

Not sure why, but I didn't like the idea of this thing, grotesque as it was, being connected to me.

"That's the problem, the whole problem, did I ever know? Did I ever care to know who I was? They put me in here, they did this to me, they killed me, killed me little by little, until... "

"Who killed you, this is unreal! How can you be here in my mirror? You know you're in my mirror right? I did not smoke weed, I did not even drink! How are you in my mirror! "

"This is where I died, " she answered.

"You're a ghost? " I asked in a small voice. Probably the stupidest thing to ask, but I couldn't help it.

I really wished the dream would end and I would wake up before things got Freddy Krueger-like. She could play the part, what with her sunken cheeks and abnormally swollen lips, the strange shape of her cheekbones, the thinness of her nose, complemented by a nose ring made of gold and platinum, almost looking transparent, the way her hair looked like an expensive wig, and her thin eyebrows, almost non-existent. She looked like a nightmare come to life, and who knew if that wasn't what she was?

I watched too many late-night movies, and I was getting monster flashes. Ghosts were not all Patrick Swayze and Casper, most were up to no good.

"I don't know what I am anymore, if I ever knew, " she answered in her hoarse, broken voice.

"Who hurt you, what happened to you? Do you think, if I find out who it is you will be set free? " ( I had seen this in many movies too).

This was surreal, but she seemed real. Maybe the world wasn't black and white and sometimes some strange things happened... Poltergeist and such. I was swimming from movie to movie and still falling under, not able to wrap my mind around it. Why was any of this happening to me?

Yet at the same time, although it was difficult to even look at her monstrous features, I somehow felt involved. I couldn't leave her out in the cold, I had to help her, make her at peace again.

I don't know why I felt such responsibility, my mother usually said I was heartless, but something about her just tore at my soul. She had suffered too much, that I knew.

"I hope so, "she said emotionally.

Her eyes were so messed up, I wondered if she could still produce teardrops. I wouldn't have been surprised if the answer to that was no.

"So who did this to you? Why did they attack you, what happened, who killed you? "

Her eyes were dull, lightless, almost dead, but they seemed to pierce right through my soul. As she spoke, her monstrous lips barely moved, she looked like an oversized plastic doll. But I forced myself to look at her, at the skin that looked either unnaturally taut or nearly melted... had they used acid on her?

"Bit by bit, chipping another flake of my sanity, until I didn't know what was what, and who I was anymore. It was never enough, first was liposuction, I mean, I was fat, I needed to look like all those models. Then it was my boobs, they were obviously inadequate, and my hair color, until they fell off, never to grow again... All I ever wanted was to be beautiful, to be accepted, to be valued. That people look at me and think: I wanna be that girl... and no matter what I tried, how hard I tried, it never worked. So I tried harder. "

"You... did this to yourself? " I realized with dawning horror.

"I wanted to fit in, to be in the "in" crowd, but never enough, I could never cut it, and the more I tried, the more I was cast aside. Drinking, smoking, drugs, the pain was unbearable... Because... How could anyone treat you seriously, give you their heart, when you look like this? I realized too late, so much too late, it's not about how you look, it's about your heart. But then it was too late, wasn't it? My heart is dry and black and rotten, nothing beautiful in there, "

"But, but I mean, you could have stopped, the surgeries I mean? There's no reason to put yourself through this torture again and again just to impress some jerks, " I said, trying to imagine such folly.

It wasn't that hard, I was struggling a lot with trying to fit in, to be 'that' girl, the one everyone admired. And I just wasn't cut out for it either. It seemed to come so naturally for some people, but others were just made for the dumpsters.

But not a reason to wreck what little you did have, you had to hold onto that dearly...

"The chance that this time, it would work, I would go back to who I was, but it just got worst every time. Until I stood in front of this mirror, crying my eyes out, crying blood, and slashed my wrists, the one good thing I did in my life, wishing as the blood left my body to be given one chance, one chance to change my life. Go back, and make different choices. "

" And you got trapped in the mirror? " I asked, puzzled.

"For once in my life I was heard, and whoever... brought me back, so I could change what will become. I can stop it all, "

"How? " I asked, a bit fascinated or hypnotized. It was hard to tell. That something out of the ordinary had actually happened, like some sort of miracle. That was almost unheard of.

"Get rid of the problem, get rid of the heartless bitch that ruined my life, "

Her hoarse voice changed. The tone was vicious now, and I looked up, almost despite myself, because she was so horrible to look at.

I gasped in fear because she was hitting the mirror, breaking it apart from the inside, it would seem, grabbing a jagged piece of it as she went right through, into my bathroom.

Her body was just as horrible ( she was wearing a bra and panties only and I could see all the scars from the surgeries) but the fact that she had 'materialized' was what preoccupied me the most.

And the way she seemed to have a huge grudge against me.

"Wait! "I screamed when she slashed at me. " Who are you? "

The moment the mirror made contact, drawing a line of blood on my arm, the same line appeared on hers and somehow everything became clear.

But it felt like a punch to the gut.

How could I have been so blind?

Those eyes were mine.

"You die now and I won't waste my life! You and your need to be like everyone else, you and your need to be BEAUTIFUL, you did this to me! "

" I didn't do anything! " I protested, trying to run away from the bathroom. If I just made it out of the bathroom, I would be ok, I just knew it.

Nightmares had rules, right?

"You killed me. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second I wasn't good enough for you, you killed me! "

She was like a banshee, completely insane and out of reality. But she struck me in the leg as I was trying to run and I started bleeding. It hurt so much that I collapsed, and tried to drag myself forward; she grabbed my ankle with her claw-like hands, nails so long that they dug into my ankle and drew more blood.

I whipped back and tried kicking at her, then managed to grip her nose ring and pulled it out without pity, but her features were so stiff, she didn't even twitch a muscle. Or felt any pain, from the looks of it.

While I was bleeding like a gutted pig, she seemed to be radiant.

Her features softening, becoming... more like mine.

Like all the abuse she had made our body suffer were reversing... as I lost my blood.

She struck again, and I managed to avoid just in time. But how long could I last?

"Stop! "I yelled, managing to grab the mirror dagger as she was pounding it on me. My hands were cut immediately and she did not stop the pressure, the jagged edges digging into my bones it would seem, but if I let go, I was dead.

"I won't do it! I am warned, I won't do it, you will be safe! We will both be safe, don't kill me! "

"You leave and I am free! " she growled, kicking me in the stomach.

I lost my grip on the makeshift knife and there was a sharp pain and then...

darkness.

I flipped my hair in front of the mirror and smiled at my reflection, wasn't this just perfect? My hair was so soft, so lustrous, so perfect... and the way my teeth gleamed, irresistible!

How could anyone want to change this, how could anyone not appreciate, simply, what Nature had done? No better artist than Nature, no need for any change.

I smiled and then frowned. Damn, a blackhead... I had forgotten about the acne.

But I knew a cream that would take care of that in a few moments...