Mirrors//m.c

one.

Ariella took very small steps into the little fast food place. She gulped and her eyes traveled around, scanning the room. She wore her cuffs over her hands and placed it on her face, covering all her "imperfections".

She walked onto the line, and looked up at the food on the board. Her older brother was to her left, making sure she would eat her food this time. Being pressured, the girl decided to just order a burger.

As the line grew shorter and Ariella was actually looking at the boy, she gulped hard, attempting not  to cry.

She cried far too often. She was just so...sad.

Both hands were on her face, wallet covering her facial features. She stood very unpolite, slouched over. She was breathing heavily, and gulping hard. Don't cry.

"Uhm, number five?" She said, so soft and the boy tilted his head. He didn't hear her. Hell, she barley could hear herself. But the girl stood there, remaining to cover her face and refusing to let go. Her older brother would lightly nudge her, trying to assure her it would be okay. But Ariella flinched each time he did so, and she almost wanted to cry again.

"Can you repeat that?" The boy said, leaning in. Her brother sighed. There wasn't anything he could do to help the insecure girl. He was so powerless.

"Number five." She said, louder, but still a whisper voice. The boy leaned in even closer, raising an eyebrow, trying to understand her.

"Forget it." She mumbled, walking off the line, heading towards the exit. She uncovered her face and the boy just stared at her. What was wrong with her? Was she okay?

And everybody watched as the kitten-voiced, BDD girl headed out, taking a step out side before dashing in the car with tinted window, where no one can see she was dying.

The brother looked at the clerk.

"What's...What-Was she okay?" The clerk asked. He looked outside the windows, trying to search for her. Poor Michael, He always cared for people. He didn't know that she couldn't be fixed.

"No. She never is. Can we please get the number five." Her brother said, and the boy nodded, getting what he needed.

Ariella sat in her car, knees to her chest, face buried in her hands. She was so upset. So...scared. She shook and she cried, and she sniffled, and she covered her face. She lied to everyone. But that's okay. Lies were okay, right?

The boy rushed for the burger faster then anyone else, handing it to Ariella's brother quickly. The brother paid, and bolted out the door.

He slipped into his car and placed the wrapped cheese burger in Ariella's lap. She looked up, her face was red, eyes were puffy. Why was it that she was such a heart breaking sight to see?

"Please eat today." Her brother pleaded.

"Carter, I eat."

"No, Ari, you really don't." He said and the girl grabbed the food, and she unwrapped it, very slowly. Carter watched her, and waited for her to take a bite.

She didn't though, she broke down into tears again.

"So many things are wrong with me, Carter! I try so hard I'm never good enough!" She said, kicking the dashboard and threw her head back.

Out came rushing the heroic clerk boy, slipping on his coat, running towards the car. His name tag fell off, but that wasn't what bugged him. It was this girl, who just didn't know what to do.

He tapped on the window and the girl flinched. She looked at him and then covered her face. The brother rolled down the window. He thought that maybe she had a chance to finally meet someone new.

"Sorry, but I had to ask you if you were okay." He said and Ariella nodded, faking a smile. That was such a lie. They all felt it.

"Please tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know you."

"I know." Said the boy. "But I care too much about people."

"Who are you? Walking to my car and asking me if I'm okay. You're pretty fucked up to be caring about some customer."

"Who am I? Oh, I'm Michael." He said to the girl. "Can you please tell me what's wrong?"

"Look, Kid, you're really sweet and all but-" The brother started, interupted by Areilla.

"I understand you like people and all, but Michael, some people can't be distracted by their problems by a simple conversation with some weirdo." She said, in a hushed tone, covering her face still, buried in her hands, forehead resting on the dash board.

"What if I bought you lunch. Like, good lunch. Not some crappy McDonalds. Please. I really want to know you."

"Sorry, Kid." The brother said, starting up the car. "Unlike you, she really doesn't like people."

The clerk boy mumbled an 'oh' before he took a step back, watching as the girl and her brother began to pull out, and drive away.

That was Michael Clifford, though. He cared about these people, who didn't know him. He was so good for this world, everybody should be like him.

So, being himself, Michael was determined to fix the BDD diagnosed girl.

"I have to help her."