Nobody Knows | Jeon Jungkook

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It's almost cruel that mirrors don't have filters. How can a person hide from the harsh reality that is thrown back at you every day as a reflection?

Seeing the same person looking back at me every day for over 23 years is not something new. But now to have someone who doesn't even look close to me is kind of sad. I can't recognize anything about the facial features, although they are still the same.

Tired and empty eyes that have been wide awake for days without sleep stare back at me. Lips chapped with dryness despite many attempts to moisten them by licking. Skin pale, as if it hadn't seen the sun in days.

Is that really me?

Pretty dresses, makeup, and shiny jewelry was my everyday life. Maybe it was just to cover my contrary personality. Maybe it was just a game, a cover-up for myself, to convince me that I can be beautiful, despite all the ugly things in my life.

But now not even the frills seem to be able to sugarcoat that. I feel exposed. I feel bared. And I can't help but feel guilty. Everything in my life has been a lie. Not even the person staring back at me is the person I thought they were.

Isn't it kind of cliché? A woman looking at her reflection in the mirror as if she is obsessed with herself and her beauty is what many books write. And even more cliché is a woman who is seeing her broken self in the reflection.

I am to be laughed at.

Sora takes the towel off my head and my damp hair falls around my face. A shiver runs down my spine as the coolness gives me goosebumps, but that still doesn't detach my continuous gaze from the mirror.

She begins to part my hair into sections, then brushes it. The smile never leaves her lips and I know she does it to cheer me up. I'm glad I have her as a friend and I don't know how I would have managed simple things like taking a shower without her.

I want to give her so much back, but there's only so much I have left. And I can't even part my lips to thank her. She's careful as if I could break in her hands like a dead flower.

She puts the first strand of combed hair aside so she can move on to the next, but at that moment a soft knock sounds against the surface of my door. Sora smiles at me through the reflection and then runs to the door.

Whispers are what echo in my usually quiet room until I then hear the door close again. The house has been so quiet for days, you could hear the person on the other wing breathing. And in contrast, my thoughts are so loud that I'm afraid the world might hear my wretchedness.

Gentle, big doe eyes look at me through the mirror this time. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are tired too, probably because he hasn't found sleep along with me. I know he is watching me at night as I pretend to sleep and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. Although all I'm really doing is trying to keep the tears from flowing.

His fingers lightly run through my hair and he continues what Sora left off with. I want to close my eyes because it's the first time I've felt this peaceful in days. I don't want him to see me so weak, but then again, he's the only person I trust with my weakness.

He combs my hair carefully and whenever the comb gets caught in a knot, he hisses like it hurts him instead of me. But I can't feel anything but the heaviness in my chest anyway.

I don't know how to feel. So many hours have passed since I lost the meaning of life. The days change from dark to bright and then back again from bright to dark as I lie in the comfort of my bed.