The mirror

The mirror is a complex thing. Sometimes I stare sometimes I weep, and on those rare occasions when I do smile at what I see, it's nearly always gone in a heartbeat. Swallowed by a change in direction or light, my thoughts consumed by self-loathing.

The mirror stares at me from my bathroom wall, daring me to peek, I must avoid such temptations, closing my eyes and walking past as fast as humanely possible. Changing only in the dark, so as never to see the hulk of the monster I've become.

It never used to be like this, the mirror was just that. An adornment for the wall, surrounded by pretty, pink flowers, a good place to check if my pink princess dress twirled properly. If only... Now the mirror is a burden, a dark gloom from the wall of my room, creating an atmosphere of despair. So, I covered it, now all i see are messages, reminders to myself.

"Have a good day." "You are perfect." "All sizes fit."

Now I mostly ignore the mirrors presence, I can barely see it anyway, i stick my nose up at it as I walk past. On my way to have another perfect day. Still occasionally through the cracks of the paper, I see it, staring back at me. My face illuminated highlighting every blemish, horns on my head gleaming, snout shuddering, and I am reminded yet again that I will never be human.