Mirrors
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Mirrors didn’t lie to her.
Why would mirrors lie to her? All they could do was reflect her image. Such a simple task did not require any particular cunning or extensive thought process, no hidden motive or subtle undertone, like some girls she knew at school, who tossed off nauseatingly sweet comments with nasty intentions as easily as they tossed their tumbling waves of hair. But mirrors weren’t like that. All mirrors could do was tell her the truth.
Mirrors were her friends.
They whispered to her, slithering around in her brain, slipping and sliding into the deepest niches of her soul, comforting her. They gave her attention – and that’s all Cassie ever wanted, really, for someone to notice her. They offered this doting attention to her like one would offer precious jewels and fur to any greedy society-climbing lady – and similarly as one would expect, Cassie grabbed at it desperately. They helped her think, and prioritize, even when her stomach was growling for food, they told her no, she wasn’t ready yet. Maybe she would never be ready, but it was better than filling that empty hole in her with a temporary release of food.
Because that hole in her, the one that growled and clawed from inside, the one that twisted and ached so much that she often felt dizzy and light-headed, the one that screamed and screamed and screamed when she threw out the contents of her plate, that hole was a scam. They’re the liars, the mirrors whispered to her, reassuring her, craftily convincing her, comforting her. They want you to look bad.
Mirrors didn’t want her to look bad.
They wanted to improve her. So she could be good enough, so she could be good again. Because right then, with her thick, tree stump legs, and cellulite dripping off her waist, with her face so oily and puffy, with her eyes so beadily trying to find the nearest food source like some kind of wild, untamed animal, she was about the farthest thing from perfect.
Mirrors showed her how she really looked.
Cassie was oblivious to the whispers that floated amidst her, hushed voices that timidly suggested that perhaps, just perhaps she was getting “too skinny”. But if she had heard these preposterous claims, she would have been flabbergasted. Did they not see how fat she was? Her flabby arms and incredibly out of shape abs, her chipmunk cheeks, her thunder thighs? No, because everyone else saw something completely different. They saw a half-starved girl, all bones bones bones with skin stretched over in a taut, aching way to look at, skin so pale and translucent that green veins were as visible as neon rivers snaking under her skin. They saw a girl mentally and physically exhausted by her inner battle of wills – the hardest combat a man will ever have to fight – with flat, soulless eyes, a girl who was so weak she could barely hold herself up. They saw a girl who was blind to the harm she was really doing to herself, a girl who was slowly losing her grip on reality, a girl whose sadness and hurt drove her to such staggering lengths. And all she saw was a girl who wasn’t perfect.
Mirrors were on her side.
That idea of perfection, that seemingly unattainable stretch that would finally make her happy, that dream she held onto even at her worst times, even when she was so feeble and fragile she felt ready to give up – that desire burned in her and rejuvenated her, bringing her back to life. Mirrors encouraged her; they kept her going. They helped her believe in herself. And when she looked into that flawed reflection she detested so much, they helped to motivate her.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” she breathed everyday, whispering so low she could barely even hear herself. “Who is the fairest one of all?”
And each day, the mirror gave her that terrible pitying look, sympathetic yet with a sharp edge of cruelty, an air of malice that at the time she could never see. Her heart would stop for a millisecond as she anticipated the answer, and slowly, sadly, yet somehow triumphantly, the mirror would give her response, She is.
It was never Cassie.
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Word count : 718Comments would be nice.