Mirror Mirror

Broken image

She looked utterly ridiculous as she stumbled about in front of the full length mirror. Back and forth down the hallway, resembling a drunken duck on an iced pond.  My eyes sauntered over her grossly obese body, taking in every inch of the absurdity. Many people have told her she’s pretty, but they were lying—a desperate bid of the polite to spare her feelings.

My eyes locked onto hers and held them. Dull and lifeless, their blue spoke of sadness and pain. Her red lips plumped into a pout that was meant to be sensual but instead reminded me of a deformed flab of skin.

I moved my gaze to her body and observed the fat rolls she so desperately tried to hide. She turned slightly, and I shuddered at the sight of her broad shoulders, too large to ever be beautiful. My mind wandered to images of other girls, their perfect loveliness so far removed from this.

From beneath her knee high skirt, tree trunk legs bulged. She tugged the material in a desperate attempt to pull it even lower. Does she not know it won’t make a difference?

Why are you so ugly? I want to ask, but already know the answer—because you deserve it.

“Are you staring at yourself in the mirror again?” Mum’s voice sounded behind me.

I nod but say nothing.

“Look at you,”—she said—“so perfectly beautiful. But, you need to eat more. You’re getting way too skinny.” Mum smiled and kissed my cheek.

My eyes returned to my reflection and for a long while I simply gawked at my own disgusting image.

“I won’t be eating anything tonight,” I whispered to the creature in the mirror.

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