Mirror

Running into the bathroom, I throw myself onto the the wall and analyze myself in the mirror. The tears trek down my face, leaving shimmering trails on my tanned skin. My muck brown eyes are outlined in red due to the tears. My equally muck coloured fringe falls into my face and I brush it away with trembling fingers.
“Why? Why am I so ugly?” I ask wearily, sick of looking at my fat body. I push off the wall and grab the small, white and red box from behind the sink. Pulling out the silver blade, I lower it to my mutilated arm. Pressing the cool metal against me, I look up quickly before the blood flows. For some reason, it makes me sick, looking at the cuts when i make them. So I opt for the mirror, it also helps remind me why I do it.
This time though, it’s not me looking back. Rather, a strikingly gorgeous boy stares back. A pained expression drawn on his ivory face, and big blue eyes that look like they could burst out water any moment.
“Stop. Please, stop. Don’t do it,” He begs. I stagger back, confused by this strange boys appearance in my mirror.
“Who are you?” I ask him, his eyes widening as the words leave my mouth.
“You… You can see me?”
“Yes. Who are you??”
“Phil. I’m Phil,” He tells me, amazement tangling with horror and his original pained expression.
“Why are you in my mirror, Phil?” I don’t even finish my question before he disappears as suddenly as he came, leaving me talking to my reflection. A bit shaken, I follow the stranger’s request and hid my box again before going to my room to rest.
I was 14.
——————————————————————
“You’re a FAGGOT?! God, I can’t believe I dated you!” My phone screams at me from the sink counter. A rough click followed by dial tone wafts into the air. Air in which my lungs can’t quite seem to obtain. I choke on my tears and scratch at my eyes, attempting to clear them and regain my vision. I didn’t expect Lisa to react like that. I knew she didn’t love gays, but I never expected her to tell me to just kill myself after coming out. I rock back and forth, fumbling around for my familiar case. Once my hand lands on it, I pull it out and stand up. As per usual, I press the razor to my skin and drag back, tearing open my arm and releasing blood to drip down my arm.
“Let love bleed red,” I mutter under my breath, swiping a few more times. I relish in the stinging pain until I hear him.
“Stop it, please. Stop hurting yourself,” I look up, unsure of what I’ll find and surprised by what I do. It’s been 2 years since I’ve seen this face and frankly, I think it be easier to follow through with my plan had he not shown up now.
“Why? Who cares? What’s it matter if I cut myself a little bit. No one cares about it, about me. Lisa swore she loved me but guess what, SHE DOESN’T. No one does or will… I should just die, shes right. I deserve to!” I laugh hysterically as I finish my small rant, but the laughs soon turn to tears and I melt against the counter sobbing.
“Here, ” The new reflection says softly, my faucet flipping on and spitting out water. I reach my arms under and the blood drain away with the water. I try to stifle my sobs and regain my composure without much luck. I dry my hands and look at the mirror. 2 years later and here Phil is, again.
“Are you ok?” He asks me cautiously, probably afraid I’ll go off on him or something.
“Not at all.” I answer him honestly, tired of lying to everyone.
“What’s wrong? Why so you hurt yourself so often?” I look at him. his blue eyes meet mine and show pure innocence , only small traces of pain and previous suffering glint through. His lips turned in a downward frown and his eyebrows are knitted together as though he was doing a puzzle and is completely stuck. As I study him, I try to figure out how to explain to this stranger why I do what I do.
“I guess… I guess cutting is my way of coping. Coping with the mental pain I feel all the time, at school, at home. And the physical pain. It lets me be in control and feel something besides numbness and sadness. I don’t know…” I trail off, even though what I said was the truth.
“Oh,” His eyes shift down and I wait for him to disappear like so may others. “I guess I kind of understand, though I wish you wouldn’t. Lovely people don’t deserve so much pain.”
“Me, lovely?” I sneer, “And yes, I do deserve this. I deserve this all. Besides, it’s my fault. And hey, maybe one day one of these will prove to be my great escape, they’ll let me leave.”
“But why leave?Where you are seems not to bad,” As he says this, I notice a scar in his forehead, turned white from his furrowed brows. Along with the scar, I also notice a small chip in his tooth.
“Well it is. For me anyways. For me its like hell,” As I finish my sentence, I hear the front door open and shut.
“I have to go now, Phil. Can we talk again soon? Will you come back?”
“Yes, definitely. But one thing before you go?”
“Yes?”
“Smile for me?” He asked, hope intertwined with worry and concern in his voice. I meet his eyes, watching me eagerly like a little kids and soon a smile, and an almost real smile, pushes onto my face.
“Daniel!” My mom calls.
“I have to go, bye Phil!” I turn to leave, a ghost if the smile still playing on my lips.
“Bye Daniel, see you later.” I turn back to Phil and grab my razors, putting them back into their box, thankful I remembered to.
“DANIEL!” My mom screams for me.
“Coming!” I answer, wishing I hadn’t. I knew what awaited me and would do anything to avoid it. But of course, I can’t. I hide my box again and turn to leave, not before checking the empty mirror though.
I was 16.
»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»
For the last time, I crawl into my bathroom and collapse on the floor in a bloody heap. Getting up again, I pull the door shut and lock it, resting against it listening to the ballad of smashing bottles and obscenities being made out side. Eventually I convince myself to stagger to the medicine cabinet.
“What are you doing, Dan?” An all too familiar voice asks.
“Today, I am going to die, Phil.”
“Why? Tomorrows your birthday, don’t you want to see life at 18?” He asked me, as I continued searching my cabinet.
“Found it! And frankly, I don’t care if I live to 18,” I stated bluntly as I grabbed my container of pills from the cabinet and walk over to empty them on the counter.
“Oh God Dan, what happened? Did your mom do that?”Phil gasps once he sees my broken form.
“Yes,” I lean to the side and see a bit of me. My head is bleeding on my hair line one of my eyes are black, and a large bruise is forming on my nose. I could probably stare and continue to find more wounds, but I don’t. Instead, I toss down the first few pills.
“4.”
“Dan, stop. Now,” Phil requests.
“8.”
“Please stop, please? For me?” He pleads.
“12.”
“Dan!”
“16,”
“Stop it!”
“20.”
“Daniel STOP!” He yells, slamming his hand against the mirror. Only, it doesn’t stop against the mirror. Instead, his fist slips into my world. I take my eyes off his hand and meet his eyes. We stare at each other in amazement. Slowly, Phil reaches his other hand out, and it slips through as well. I reach up and grab his hand, which is cold and clammy, but perfect. I lift my other hand and reach out again, but don’t stop at his hand. Instead, I push it through the mirror, gasping when it slips through like glass through water.
“I don’t understand,” I trail off, lost in the confusion.
“D-Dan, try to come through to me,” Phil instructs. I pull my hand out of the mirror, placing it on the sink for balance. My other hand grips his tighter and I pull myself up onto the counter. I sit down and poke one foot into the glass, then the other.
“Wh-what is happening? How are we doing this?” I panic, this makes no sense. It shouldn’t be possible.
” I’m not sure…” I nod and laugh nervously.
“Ok, going in all the way,” I shut my eyes tightly then slide through. The sensation is one like jumping through water. I feel myself land on another counter top and I jump off it. Quickly I become aware of another heat source. I open my eyes slowly and they land on another pair, an unmistakable Blue.
“I don’t believe it,” Phil smiles, “You’re here!”
“I am,” I whisper. He pulls me into a hug and I left myself relax into him. As I take in everything going on, the new bathroom, the boy who seems to care, an unfamiliar emotion washes over me, leaving a smile that seems like it may never go away.
I’m finally happy.