Mirror

This story, like many others, begins with a boy of no more than ten years. Dark hair and big brown eyes, tanned from living on an island paradise. A family of five in a three bedroom apartment was what he called home. They were poor, the boy and his family, and while he knew this he never truly understood poverty. When he thought about it he didn't see the homelessness that he saw in the news or the crime or rampant hunger that the news spoke about when they spoke about other boys like him. After all, mom and dad always had food for him at the table. He had a bed in a room under a roof that he enthusiastically shared whit his older brother. There was a full bathroom with a tub where he soaked and played with his toys. His toys! He had toys, so how could he be poor? They weren't the newest or best but they were his and his alone. He had an older sister that looked over him although he didn't know at the time. And he had mom and dad who, besides giving him food, never let him want for nothing.

As he grew his toys went away. So did the sleepless nights with his brother now that he was a grownup. And his sister now looked over him from afar. Mom and dad weren't mom AND dad anymore; he had to stop talking about them as if they were a one and only thing. The shared bedroom became his room and an occasional stopping point for the eldest one -the brother. His dogs were someone else's dogs and warmth only came from the small box T.V. and original Xbox in the corner of the room. He thinks about being poor constantly now. As before, it wasn't what the news showed but he was older now and with age comes understanding. The toys that he couldn't have when he was younger, or eating the same meal for weeks on end, the cheapest notebooks for school and not partaking in the outings with his friends; he was poor, he knew, but now he understood. This new found understanding was a heavy one. While not in the worst scenario imaginable there were many things he was deprived of. Fun things that he could not afford. Simple things. He now understood the fights his parents had and why he felt sorry when he asked for money. He understood his moms frustration and his dads silence. "Many don't know this at my age" he thought. And he was right. Many didn't understand the value of one dollar. That single piece of green paper that was so easily wasted by others held a power of him like no other. A power that would slowly, but surely, condemn him.

Many years later, an adult now himself, the boy looked in the mirror. He saw his dark hair and tanned skin but something was off. Where were his big brown eyes? They had shrunk. Or sunken. Dark rings now appeared under his eyes and he couldn't help but wonder when that happened. A knock at his apartment door wakes him from his trance. The building administrator on the other side of the door lets him know that he is now three months late on his rent. He explains, for the nth time, that he's a college student with a part time job and he doesn't have a cent to his name but "next week I get paid, I'll pay then." But how? Three months rent was more than he made in one. "This is what poor is" he said. And his eyes shrunk just bit more. The phone rings. It's his girlfriend. He answers, lights a cigarette... "Yeah, I'm fine. Everything's fine."