I stare into a mirror,

Not recognizing the girl I see,

It takes me a while,

To realize that girl is me.

This girl is a liar,

She is a cheat and a dissever,

But she has a pretty smile,

So everyone always believes her.

This girl is closed off,

She is emotionally and physically scarred,

She tries to run away from her demons,

But she never gets very far.

This girl is a survivor,

She knows the true meaning of pain,

This girl is strong,

And a master at playing life’s game.

She refuses to break,

She refuses to bend,

She challenges light and darkness,

And this will lead to her end.

But this girl is also kind,

For she never wants anyone to experience what she has,

For those unforgiving experiences,

Nearly drove her mad.

I stare into the next mirror,

And see the girl I used to be,

She was small and joyful,

And filled to the brim with glee.

She had known hardship,

But it never got in her way,

Because all the good in her life,

Made up for it at the end of the day.

She never frowned,

And she never lied,

She had a bright light inside of her,

But that light eventually died.

I reached out and touched the mirror,

And it immediately began to shatter

And I listened as my old life,

Hit the ground with a clatter.

Every day you hurt and teased me,

hit and laughed with all your might,

but the reason you do this is so you can be,

in the big, bright spotlight.

You threw all your food at me,

and shoved sand in my socks,

you slammed me with branches from a tree,

and pegged me with your rocks.

But when all the adults came,

you stopped with all your tricks,

instead you didn’t act the same,

and threw away your sticks.

But now it’s 10 years on,

and you live in a small flat,

and all my abusement is now gone,

your only company’s a cat.

I’m living in the world of fame,

because I followed my dreams,

and karma is a careful game,

and you lost, so it seems.

Walking in the therapists room,

not a single window in sight,

felt like I was walking into doom,

until he turned on the light.

A gorgeous sofa and a bean bag,

dazzling books galore,

shelves, chairs, and a flag,

but then he closed the door.

“What’s the matter?”, a voice so nice,

but my mind was engulfed with flames,

he was giving me such good advice,

that was one of his aims.

Walking out of the therapists room,

It turns out it wasn’t so bad.

For now my mind wasn’t filled with gloom,

and my feelings weren’t so sad.

Five years ago, when I was but thirteen years old, I vowed to never go to therapy again; today I would break that vow. The building was a rather plain building; beige walls, brown sofas and coffee tables, the cliché therapy office. I sat in the waiting room, waiting for my name to be called.

“Aja.” Called the desk lady. I raise my hand slightly and walk into the gestured room. The room was very displaced in the plain building. Unlike the rest of the building, this room was vibrant. It had electric blue walls, a pear white couch, a dark wooded desk in the back, and a white cushioned chair in front of the couch. A nice-looking lady with fair hair and chestnut eyes motioned me to sit on the couch.

“Please, sit.” The doctor said gesturing to the couch. Wearily, I sit down on the couch. The doctor wore a white coat, blue pants, and a white shirt. She held a brown clipboard and black pen in her hand. “My name is Dr. Carol, what brings you here today?” My head snaps up at her soft voice.

“Oh, um, uh.” I stuttered.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Just start by telling me what’s troubling you.” Dr. Carol said.

“Okay, um, five years ago my father was brutally murdered, my mother became a drug addict, so child services took me to live with my aunt. In my life time I have had over fifteen kidney surgeries due to numerous diseases and complications during my birth. I have been told I cannot be fixed. My best friend died last year. My brother refuses to see me, oh and I’m not getting along with my classmates.”

The doctor stared at me, mouth agape.

“Sounds like you have been through a lot these past few…years.” Dr. Carol said. “How do you cope with these emotions?”

“I don’t,” I replied. “I pushed them down a long time ago. That’s another reason why I come to you today. I’ve buried my emotions so far deep that I no longer know how to get them back. I’m starting to feel like something is always wrong, but I do not know what, I am forgetting why I am upset, and I cannot even cry anymore.”

“What do you mean you cannot cry anymore?” Dr. Carol asked.

“Exactly that. I can’t cry. I spent so long forcing myself to swallow my tears that I have forgotten how to. I do not cry at death, movies, while reading sad stories, or when I break bones.” I explained.

“I see,” Dr. Carol said, writing in her clipboard. “Well I have the perfect solution for you. It is something I call ‘jar of emotions’. You are going to write down all your most painful memories and put them in the jar.”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe that this will help you.”

I give her a slight nod and take the paper and pen she gave me. Suddenly, every violent, brutal memory came rushing to the surface.

“Come on!” I shout to my best friend. “My aunt will kill me if I am not home in twenty minutes.”

My best friend Sarah stumbles to the car, keys in hand. The smell of booze filled the air.

“I got this, just jump in and let’s go!” Sarah slurred. We both jumped into the car laughing and drove onto the highway. The music was blaring, our laughter ringing through the air like a siren.

“Sarah watch out!” I shouted as she swerved into an oncoming truck. Soon real sirens filled the air.

I drop the paper in the jar.

The sound of doctors shuffling about rings through the air. The man who played his guitar and sang to me before this has disappeared. The beeping of the monitor is my only lullaby. I clench my fist till my knuckles turn bone white to disguise the shaking. It is nearly impossible to hear the doctor shouting orders of the clattering of my teeth and the beeping monitor. The male doctor inserted an IV into the top of my hand. I could barely register the pain. I focused on the beeping monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep. The other male doctor with the kind face and fair hair came over to me with a rubber mask. With a wide grin, obviously meant to calm me, he secured the mask onto my face. The words he spoke are lost in my memory; the only sound constant is the beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. Once the mask is secure, the man shoots me another soft smile and tells me something of what I can make out as him telling me the gas is about to come through. This is the part I dread the most. It all goes well at first. My body goes numb and I feel as though I’m flying. Touch is always the first to go. After about ten seconds of blissful soaring, smell abandons me. Soon after, taste follows. All that is left is sight and hearing. Dark spots cloud my vision as I fade out. Soon, the merciful feeling of unconsciousness over takes me and all I am left with is the beeping of the monitor.

Another paper goes into the jar.

I lay in bed playing with my toys. I know I should be asleep, but I was too excited for my birthday tomorrow. My head snaps up from my game when I hear shouting coming from downstairs. I rush downstairs and peer in between the bars of the stair case into the kitchen. Mommy was crying in the living room while daddy was in the kitchen. Three strangers, all male, were in my house. One held a gun to mommy’s head, the other two were screaming at daddy. One of them got mad when daddy came at them with a kitchen knife and shot him ten times. The sound of the gun firing caused my ears to ring like church bells. The next day on my birthday, daddy was on the news. They said it was because those guys were angry that daddy was putting their boss in jail. I knew daddy should have never become a lawyer.

I drop the final piece of paper in the jar. A tear slides down my cheek. Soon that single tear turns into a raging sob.

“Finally, a break-through.” Dr. Carol whispered into my ear as she stroked my hair.

-Love is a strange thing,

It comes in many different shapes and forms,

But all I see it as,

Is a sorrow filled storm,

My friends can have their sweethearts,

I have no objections,

But that doesn’t mean they can come into my love life and apply corrections,

They hate that I don’t fall in love the way they do,

But I’m like that for a reason,

To be anything but,

Feels like self treason,

I don’t want to love another,

For I always lose them in the end,

Just like I did my best friend,

The people I get set up with,

Don’t understand me,

But I put up too many walls anyway,

And refuse to give them the key,

I’m the way I am,

Why can’t they just leave me be,

Why can’t they just leave me alone,

And allow me to keep my dignity,

I don’t want to fall in love right now,

They need to accept that,

Because they are getting me into un needed crap,

I can’t give my love to someone,

For I have no love left to give,

I am distant and antisocial,

It’s just the life I live,

I don’t want any of it,

I never did,

I can’t just fall in love,

It’s something I forbid,

It’s not rocket science,

There’s nothing complicated about it,

So why cant they stop,

Why can’t they quit,

This is all just something I don’t want to relive,

Its just simply,

the love I can’t give.

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Who’s the most broken of them all?

Fear fear inside my head,

Which one of them is to scared to go to bed?

Monster monster inside my mind,

Which one of them is not truly kind?

Curiosity curiosity inside of me,

Which one of them wants to be free?

Stranger stranger who lurks around the bend,

Do you wish that you had a friend?

Wrath wrath that clouds my choices,

When will I stop hearing these voices?

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Which one of them is going to fall?

Fear fear inside my head,

Which of their lives are filled with dread?

Monster monster inside my mind,

Why does their suffering taste so divine?

Curiosity curiosity inside of me,

Which one of them lies about being full of glee?

Stranger stranger who lurks around the bend,

When will all our lives come to an end?

Wrath wrath that clouds my choices,

When will I be able to ignore the noises?

Mirror mirror hear my plea,

Which of them is just like me?

Every night for as long as I could remember, my grandfather’s clock always chimed 12 times at three am. Only at three am. My grandfather told me, when the twelve chimes ring, the devil will sing. Silly right? I’m currently staying the night at his place. It’s my parents anniversary and they didn’t want me alone for the whole weekend. Grandfather told me to stay in my room after 2:59 am. I was to stay in the house at the very least. No matter what. I currently lay in an old, creeky bed. The stained purple comforter rough against my skin. My eyes are fixed on the clock that hung on the wall. 2:59. In one minute the old, tall clock downstairs would chime 12 times. The clock struck three and the twelve chimes rang. I found myself thirsty and went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Once I grabbed the water, a softknock sounded at the door. I opened the door to find nobody.

“Hello?” I called. I stepped outside and found nothing.

Before I could go back inside, the door slammed shut. I rushed to the door and yanked on its handle. It wouldn’t budge.

“This isn’t funny grandpa!” I shouted. A low, wicked laugh sounded from the other side of the door. I sprinted over to the window and peered into the house. A siloet too tall to be my grandpa stood in the door. The black siloet turned around to face me. I let out a gasp and jumped back from the window. It’s eyes were blood red. A slow, lethal grin spread across its face revealing teeth sharpened to dagger point. A shudder went through my bones. My grandpa was in there alone. I pounded on the door, but the figure continued to walk upstairs. The twelve chimes were never just times...they were a warning.

We are sitting in the grass, pointing out the shapes of unique clouds.

“That one looks like your uncle eating pizza!” Kailah exclaimed.

I let out a low belly laugh. We have been best friends for five years now. Today was my seventeeth birthday. I tilt my head towards her and smile. When I first moved here, I felt so alone. Kailah came over and asked me if I wanted to hang out. I was spewing with joy. From then on, we were inseprable. Kailah turned to me and flashed a wide grin. My smile disappeared as soon as it came. Blood was dripping from her mouth, the rustic smell filling the air. A splitting headache pounded into my head. The stunning scenery disappeared and was replaced by glass shards and blood stained ground. The car we had been driving was flipped upsidedown. Kailah hung upsidedown, her blonde hair now matted with fresh blood. I shook her shoulder.

“Kailah?”

There was no response. Tears began flowing down my cheeks.

“Kailah!” I screamed.

The booming sound of sirens filled the air. The last thing I remember is her mangled body being taken out of the car. She was gone. My best friend was gone.

My feet pound into the ground,

screaming in protest with each step I take,

I try to keep running,

but my feet start to ache.

My demons are chasing me,

their sorrowful cries ringing though the air,

they are trying to bring me back,

to their agonizing lair.

Run girl run,

a voice rings in my ear,

run girl run,

there are worse things to fear.

run girl run,

don’t let them catch you,

run girl run,

or say goodbye to the girl you knew.

My legs speed up,

i‘m flying up off the ground,

so long demons,

I am already deaf to their eerie sound.

I look back behind me,

as I soar though the sky,

the demons has sprouted wings,

my demons can fly.

“leave me alone” I wail,

But the demons continue their chase,

I considered calling for help,

but nobody listened to my cries in the first place.

I hide my true self,

Behind a mask of smiles and cheers,

But underneath the mask of laughter,

Is simply a girl full of dread and tears.

I try to pry off the mask of smiles,

When I’m around others besides my selected two,

But it never budges,

It’s nothing new.

You think me to be happy,

You think me to be charming,

But it’s all a lie.

The truth is quite alarming.

My demons are like none you’ve ever seen,

They come from a place far worse,

They give me strength,

But it’s less a blessing and more a curse.

I’m drowning in my sorrows,

I’m suffocating in my pain,

I’m too exhausted,

To play this never ending game.

I wish I could tear off the mask of dread,

But it is cemented on my face,

I wish I could ask for help to pry it off,

But people didn’t listen to my cries in the first place.

*I wrote this on my way home from school and thought why Not get some criticism. Please don’t be afraid to criticize this piece or any of my other pieces. I will always welcome your critics so that I may improve my writing.*