My Looking-Glass Self

I’m late again, sorry for that, but I’m rather busy in this beginning of the second term of the school year; anyway, here’s your awaited Picture it & Write for this week:

looking in the mirror

 

“Happy 18th birthday, Lena!”

Their enthusiastic voices still echoed in my head, although the party was over for more than two hours. If I closed my eyes I would see their faded grins and narrow eyes and high cheekbones… I would feel their hands on me, congratulating me, wishing me all the best things in the world.

Yet, as I crouched in a corner and leaned against my bedroom door, I felt miserable.

I lived in a wealthy family, where, since I was born, I was offered everything I wanted. I received my second colourful tattoo on my back for my birthday, celebrated today. People said I had the most beautiful hair and the sweetest smile.My spectacles did nothing to ruin my face; instead they made me prettier… and gave credit to the intelligent girl I have always been.

I had the biggest of rooms in our big mansion, carpeted with soft fake fur, ornamented with golden embroideries. A wide comfortable bed. Sufficient space for school work, music practice, painting…

But then, from time to time, I would let myself fall on the ground and wonder…

I took a small hand mirror, my favourite, which was adorned with pearls, and stare at my reflection. Me. This was Me.

Was it?

Although I had removed my evening dress and wore a simple white tank top, I still had my dramatic and elegant makeup on. My hair was pulled up and tied as a simple cute chignon over my head. It was a little messed up though, but this did not change the fact that I would constantly ask myself:

Who am I?

Who am I really?

My reflected face stared back at me. I had never seen such a sad expression. Why wasn’t I happy? I was eighteen; I would now have more freedom, finally drive a car…

You had all the freedom of the world since you came on this Earth, Lena.

What did I want then?

Look deep inside your heart…

And she appeared. Her pretty little face was staring back at me. Her messy short hair flew in chaotic way through the wind. Her blue eyes were huge, since they had to hold up so much tears. I would never be able to forget what she had said to me…

“I’m sorry, Lena, but I can’t.”

No, please, don’t remember…

I shook my head, but I could not erase the memory. Her.

“But why?” I had asked.

“Look, Lena, you’re… your parents are well-off, while I… well my family… I can’t… We can’t be together. Never.”

Never…

A tear rolled down my cheek as I stared deeper into the mirror… that cursed thing…

“I love you, Aine.”

She had snickered, half-heartedly. “Finally, it seems that we can never get everything we want.”

A drop crashed onto the mirror’s surface. The flashback was over. It was all over.

Over.

Later, I stood up, opened the door of my bedroom and walked in, leaving sparks and pieces of broken glass on the velvet floor, beneath my feet.

An Evil Nymph.

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “My Looking-Glass Self

  1. I liked the way you are able to get into the character. I think that it is a shame that there are people who have much but still are sad, lonely and unfulfilled. I think it is important for everyone to try and focus on the fact “it could be worse!” Sad birthday for Lena but you are hopefully happy! Take care, Robin

  2. Oh, ha, hey cool. I used the name Aine in my Demons and Angels story. That who am I question is probably the one the mirror is the least help with. I like the teardrop crashing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s