Spread Too Thin

“Or not thin enough,” barked Mirror.

“You know sumthin’? you neva have anything good to say,” she whispered trying to keep calm. But she soon failed because Mirror was right.

Throwing on an oversized t-shirt to cover her less than noticeable scars, she began to cry familiar dry tears. While pointing at Mirror, her cheeks began to flush red, a feature she shamed from. She wagged her finger and shook her head slowly back and forth, because in this moment she was in defeat. Mirror. made. her. ugly.

She began to play Mirror’s game. Mocking Mirror with her stance, she rose to her tip toes, standing straight and tall, giving Mirror a side view of herself. She pulled her hair back and squinted her round eyes, hawking at Mirror, as if to say, “Ain’t this what you want? Ain’t I better now? Ain’t I?”

But it was common of Mirror to start something and not finish it. So it was to no surprise when Mirror didn’t stutter a single word.

All calm left.

She came off her tip toes and stood flat-footed on the floor. She let go of her hair, allowing it to fly across her face. She placed both hands around the neck of the shirt ripping it free of her body. She stared and she stared at Mirror in search of blame. She raised her finger up, pointing it like a sword, and she bellowed, “Wasn’t nobody talkin’ to you, you loud mouthed b-bitch!”

Spit flew from her mouth on to Mirror. She wiped the extra saliva from the corner of her curled lip with the back of her hand and flung its remains to the floor. She raised her hand to slap Mirror, and upon contact she slowly began to feel silly. All in an instant, she felt silly for feeling silly, so she then picked up the iron and slung it into Mirror. Mirror shattered.

Glass. It was just glass. Pieces of a broken reflection sprawled across her room. She fell to the floor, sinking her face into her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs, holding her hands together with dear life as if they were the only thing keeping her together.

Those arms. Her arms. Strong enough to secure limb to limb. She sat there for a while. She grew old there.

She felt afraid and alone now that Mirror was gone.  In a frantic, she tried piecing the glass back together like a puzzle. If only she could move this piece here, that one there, and that one over here. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled to herself.  Short of breath and with blood dripping from her hands from holding the glass so tight, she held the glass securely close to her chest.  She felt that without Mirror she was just an empty vessel.

 

By: Kristie Stultz

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