"Alynne?" I found myself questioning as I stood outside her door. I've been perched here for at least ten minutes and I haven't gotten the slightest reaction out of her. She hasn't come out for the whole day and we've all been concerned about her so, as you could guess, I'm here at least trying to make sure she's okay.
"What do you want?" She finally snapped. It was evident in her voice that she had just finished a crying session if she wasn't currently in one and she was sniffling her nose.
"I just want to make sure you're okay," I informed. "Can I come in?" I was answered by a slight creak in the door. It was dark in her room, but not in a natural looking way. It looked as if she was ashamed of herself or something of the sort so she cut the lights, drew the curtains, and left herself to wallow in a puddle of self pity. This is nothing like Alynne, so something must be majorly wrong.
"What's going on?" I asked as I flicked the light switch on, bringing brightness to the formerly dimmed room. Looking around the room, I observed many things strewn about the place such as blankets, pillows, and almost everything else that comes to mind. The curtain were drawn, just as I had suspected, and on my stroll to the bathroom, I noticed that both mirrors had gigantic cracks riddled through the glass. This was easy enough to see without the lights on. I flicked the switch and the light was bent from the cracked mirrors onto a clumped up figure by the toilet. My mind immediately went to the worst case scenario but was shut down when I noticed that there was nothing else to support my thoughts so I did not let them continue to dwindle.
"Alynne?" I questioned yet again as I got down onto the bathroom floor and slid over to her side. I proceeded into shaking her to make sure she was conscious. I heard her mi Utes ago. She must've ran in here as soon as I walked in.
"Go away," She pushed, obviously not wanting to be in the company of others. Oh well, you can't always have what ou want.
"I know something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?" I expected her to turn down my offer, but after a few moments of silence, she nodded her head slightly in response. I dragged her up from off of the floor and plunked her down onto the couch. I pulled a blanket from off of the floor then curled up next to her, wrapping us both up in the large orangey-brown knit blanket.
"So, what's going on?"
"I don't really know," I heard her mutter under her breath. I had a feeling that she did but just didn't want to speak of it. I'm not going to push her.
"Why'd you break the mirrors in the bathroom?"
"A twisted reflection comes from them whether they're broken or in pristine condition," She informed. "At least if they're broken I can lead myself to believe that's the reason why I look so unappealing." At least what she had done was for somewhat of a greater good. There was still some body dysmorphia issues but at least she was fighting against the urges that have most likely reared their ugly heads.
"You're not unappealing at all," I attempted to persuade. She really wasn't. "You're a model," I felt the need to remind. "This is a career many wish to have and you do, and you can't be unappealing to have this kind of career."
"If I am so visually appealing then how come I was constantly asked to lose weight?" She retorted.
"Your boss was an asshole that didn't know what he had until he lost it," I snapped back, this being my opinion that I believe was a true evaluation of his personality.
"Then why did the others agree?"
"Because that dick of a man is their boss as well so they're agreeing with him to decrease their chance of getting fired."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," I promised. "Now, what else is going on?"
"I'm scared," She finally confessed. "What if this whole thing doesn't work out for me in the end?" She questioned. "Or what if it does but I have a relapse? It's always harder to get over the second time I've heard."
"It's not going to happen, " I attempted to comfort her. "We'll get through this together."
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The idea for this chapter just came to mind all at once and I wrote it all right down. I hope that this is okay. I stuck Half Alive by Secondhand Serenade in the media because the song came on my Spotify and it just made me think of Alynne and Benji so I stuck it there.
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The Broken Mirror
Random"Every broken mirror has a twisted reflection" Alynne Ramirez has a life that she never dreamed that she'd ever have. She's a successful model at a small agency and has been offered a transfer to one of the most popular firms in exchange for one sma...