Mirrored Pain

She looked at herself in the mirror, cringing as her forest green eyes stared back with disgust. Her deep dirty blonde hair fell around her face, while her longer bangs covered her left eye. The young girl moved her hair away from her face, only to whimper and quickly look away at the sight of her unhidden face.  Her small child like hand pulled her hair back over her eye, trying to cover up at least some of the horror she had shown the world.

Once the blonde hair was back in the perfect place, the girl moved to inspect the rest of her body. Slowly lifting her thin cotton shirt she ran her hands over the flat stomach, noticing how she could just faintly feel her ribs through the taut skin. She shivered lightly at the feeling, not ever realizing how thin her pale skin was.

Again she began to raise her shirt looking at the two small pieces of flesh she had as breasts. They weren't big. Rather small really. She wasn't completely flat, but not big enough for anyone to take to the fact she did indeed have breasts.  She let her distant green eyes look at her torso and chest as she stretched her thin arms above her head, watching as she could faintly see her ribs start to form and show through the paleness of her body.

The pain filled eyes continued to roam the young girl's body, looking at her lanky arms next. Pale flesh, covered in pink-silver scars. They ran all over. Up, down, left, and right. Many of the small slivers of silver on her pale skin were straight, but you could see that one or two were jagged, most likely trying to get in deeper. Trying to reach further into the girl's body, wanting to make the child feel pain and see red.

She soon moved to her hips, running her hands over the flat surface, and looking back and forth as she saw both hip bones protruding outwards. Moving over them slowly, her tiny hands moved in circles over the bone. There was a faint wisp of over whiteness on her hip bones. She payed no mind to it.

Next was her legs. She looked down at her thighs, her incredibly large thighs. You could faintly see stretch marks all over the insides of them, running in the same matter as those scars, except these were natural. From losing fat, not from self-inflicted pain.

Her eyes traveled further down her legs, going past her knobby round knees to her calves. More silver slivers lined up on her legs. Exactly like her arms. Though these were wider, broader, thicker. Not what anybody wanted to see on a young child's body. On anyone's body.

The only thing, the young girl could see, that were alright at all on her body were her feet. Small and dainty. Though those too, were imperfections when matched with her.

Seeing her now stripped bare body she figured it out. Why he would want her best friend more than her. Why he would pick a beautiful young lady over her disgusting frame. He would rather have a pretty little doll. One with bouncy golden curls, and pure skin. Sky blue eyes that showed innocence and confidence. Not ones of a muddy green, or ones that showed remorse and hatred for their owner.

She understood it now. Why the first one betrayed her, and why the one now just wanted to use her. She was easy, and innocent. The man didn't love her, or even like her like he said he did. He wanted a beautiful young woman. Not a child as harsh as the biting cold. Or as tiring and disgusting to look at as a battlefield.

The young girl knew how little people actually liked her. How annoying she could be. She was crude, out-dated, perverse, and violent. No one, not one person in their right mind would ever look back for a second glance, let alone love her. Why did she try so hard though?

She had no answer for that. Though she searched so hard. Not a single solution to her problems.

The young girl looked back up at her reflection, sighing as her right hand came up to touch the glass. She looked down, trying to ignore her deep pain as she let a small tear slide down her alabaster skin.

The young blonde looked up for a split second, and watched the ugly trail the wetness made down her even uglier face. She pulled back her fist and, as hard as she could, snapped it forward, shattering the mirror and cutting her hand immensely.

A light smile made it to her chapped dark pink lips as she watched the blood form a trail down her hand and off her wrist. The carpet soon becoming a stain. . .

Even though it was only for a few small moments, she felt free, and maybe even better. Her pain had lifted away, though she knew it would soon return. . .

She was just happy she had gotten even a moment of reprieve.

21 December 2011