Mirror, Mirror

2.16 Shatter

I can't do this anymore.

I will end the suffering once and for all.

❖

"I'm not a bad person," Starla said to her reflection. "I deserve better than Ri-Yu."

"You're bad! You're awful! You're the worst!" her traitorous brain sang. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed... She needed Rayvin. He always made her feel better.

She went to his room, hoping he was there. He'd know what to say to make her feel better. She knocked on his door.

He opened it and looked at her with a frown.

"Rayvin, we need to talk," she said.

He let her in.

"Rayvin, I- wait, why do you look so mad?" she asked.

"Starla, do you want to explain why Poppy-Anne called me Rayvin?" he said. Starla whirled with confusion. Oh, shit.

"Look, Rayvin, I can explain," Starla said. "But I actually came here to talk about-"

"Yourself?" Rayvin finished. "Because your problems always matter the most. Is that right?"

"No, that's not what I mean," Starla said, frustrated.

"I've been trying to talk to you for days, Starla, but you've been too wrapped up in your own shit. And now you have time for me?" Rayvin said. "You don't get to just talk to me when you have problems. I'm a fucking person, not a therapist."

"Ok, well I'm here now, and I'm listening," Starla said, bristeling. "So talk."

"Ok, I will talk. You told your cousins I'm trans! Now everyone's going to know I'm a freak," he cried.

"Yeah, I told my two cousins-slash-best friends who I trust with the world," Starla retorted. "They were going to find out eventually. What was your plan, wait for your beard to fill out and then tell people you're a man?"

"My plan was to come out on my own terms, on my own time. People knowing I'm trans is not something they can un-know. Coming out is my choice, and I want to do it the right way, when I'm ready. You do not get to take that away from me," Rayvin said, fists clenched.

"I didn't mean to take anything away from you, and I'm truly sorry, Rayvin," Starla said, trying to sound reasonable. "I just don't understand how you feel comfortable transitioning to a man right before everyone's eyes, but you don't feel comfortable with me telling my closest friends that you are a man, which is already clear as day. People probably suspect it, if they don't already know! Why do you care so much about what other people think of you anyway? If you're a man, you're a man."

"You literally aren't listening to me," Rayvin said, nearly hysterical. "It doesn't matter what other people think, what they think they know, or even what you think. My coming out is my right, and under no circumstance is it OK for you to take that away from me, no matter how reasonable you think you're being, no matter how unreasonable you think I'm being."

"I was trying to stand up for you, Rayvin! Do you know how exhausting it is letting the people around me misgender you constantly?" Starla immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, that must be so fucking hard for you," Rayvin spat.

"I said I'm sorry," Starla said. "I had a bad fucking day too, you know. Aren't you going to ask what happened to me? If you even care?"

And then Rayvin said six words that made Starla's world go white.

"God, you're so obsessed with yourself," Rayvin muttered. "Just like everyone said." Starla's ears rang. The room blurred like snow. She fled the room, leaving Rayvin staring after.

She went back to her own room, slamming the door.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," she said to the reflection of herself in the mirror on her door. She did what she always did to force herself not to cry. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm not a bad person. I'm not. It's not my fault."

Starla felt something inside her splinter slowly. She tried to focus on her face, rearranging it to be confident, cool, emotionless.

First Poppy-nne, then Ri-Yu, now Rayvin too? Rayvin was the one who made her feel like a good person. If he thought she was, then she must be. It was over. She might as well give up.

"It's not my fault. It's not my-" she stopped. For once, the girl in the mirror couldn't convince her that she was OK. She could see the cracks in her facade, the tears at the corners of her eyes, the pain. She couldn't bear to look at her.

She wanted to destroy something. Before she knew what she was doing, she slammed a fist into the mirror on her door, and cracks spiderwebbed across it before the glass fell to the ground.

Something inside her broke.

She smashed another mirror. And another. And another. When her fists hurt too much, she picked up a chair and swung it instead. Glass sprayed across the room.

There was one mirror left. The big one near the window, the one that had belonged to the Queen. Starla pushed it to the balcony. She pushed, and she pushed, and she pushed. Then, she watched the reflection of herself as slowly, slowly, it tipped over the edge of the balcony. A wild girl with tear-streaked cheeks and crazed eyes, glass cuts on her arms and snot dripping from her nose, stared back at her.

The grand mirror finally tipped far enough over the balcony, and gravity took over. Starla watched as it fell. She watched as it hit the cobblestone of the pavilion floor in an explosion of glass and shards of wood.