• The Girl and The Mirror


    Girl: Dear mirror, why don't I like looking back at you?


    Mirror: It's not me you don't like. What have I done to you?


    Girl: Every time I look at you, I never feel like it's okay. I only feel rotten.


    Mirror. It's not me you don't like. What have I done to you?


    Girl: You never show my feelings Only make them. When I look at you I feel like I shouldn't allow my own happiness.


    Mirror smiles and presses her hand against the cold glass. The Girl puts her hand ageist Mirror's, and stares back for a moment. After awhile she gets a dizzy spell, and leans against the wall, where she thinks that she was sure her lip-gloss was on the opposite side of the counter.


    Mirror: Love, don't look at me and see you. It's not you that you're looking at. It's not me you don't like. What have I done to you?


    Girl: You're always telling me what to do. How to wear my hair, how to dress, how to smile, how to hold myself when I stand...Why?


    Mirror: I only repeat the choices you make. I can only be you, never myself. Love, don't look at me and see you. It's not you that you're looking at. It's not me you don't like. What have I done to you?


    Girl: You are a mirror. That is your job. You have no life, no family, nothing that a person has that makes them a person, you are only a mirror, and you only subject to the choices we make. You are only a mirror, and never anything else.


    Mirror: I don't want to be a mirror any longer. I want to feel love. I want to hear music and find out how to sing. I want to talk and walk and press my hand against the cool glass at your bedroom window. I want to watch the curtains dance when the window is open and I should be sleeping. But most of all I want to be warm. Oh how I would love warm. But here I sit in this cold bathroom with leaky pipes and a broken window. I only repeat the choices you make. I can only be you, never myself. Love, don't look at me and see you. It's not you that you're looking at. It's not me you don't like. What have I ever done to you?


    The Mirror, having said this, picks up her lip-gloss and throws it in the trash, walks over to her closet, and finds the warmest coat she can. She wraps it's tightly around her, along with her favorite scarf that was discarded years ago after the girl decided it wasn't very attractive. She pauses a moment and looks back at the girl behind the cold glass sitting in the freezing bathroom with leaky pipes and a broken window. Only a moment, no more. Then she smiles, turns around, and heads out the door to see what the world is like when there isn't a frame in front of it.

    The girl sits against the inside of the frame, absentmindedly tapping the glass, wondering:
    “What, exactly, HAS the mirror has done to me?”