Mirrors//m.c

two.

Carter parked the car, followed by a very long sigh, leaning back in the seat, his head falling backwards. Ariella stared at her stressed out brother. He has done everything and anything to make sure his sister makes a friend. Why can't she open up?

Ariella looked out the window, staring at the very small house they owned together. She barely ever left that small, old house of hers. She locked herself in her room most of the days, just wishing she would feel better about herself.

"Ari, I understand that this is who you are, but you need to get the fact that I have to move on in my life. And I can't do that until you do, too." Carter said in a soft tone. But Ariella just looked at him with hurt eyes. She didn't understand why everyone wanted her to grow up and make friends. Don't they understand she tried? She tried so hard but there was this small part in her brain that told her she was never going to be good enough.

"I can move in with you, with your future wife and future kids. I'll be the nice Aunt Ariella who lives with their nieces and nephews. I don't have to leave. I can be a great sister-in-law. Please don't tell me I have to move on."

But Carter wasn't going to go with it. He knew that no one would ever be with him if he had to take care of an 18 year old baby. He had to feed her and drive her and watch her. Who knows what she will do if he was gone?

"Ariella...It's not like that in the real world. I think you should be friends with that nice clerk boy from the-"

"No! I can decide by myself what I want, Carter! I get it. I get it that you need space from me, but please! Please don't make me..."

The girl began to cry again. She sniffled and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her face was this pinkish-red tone and her eyes began to bloodshot.

Why does she always cry?
_________________________________________

Though Michael was on the mission to find the customer, he didn't simply just go out and find her. He sat and he thought what could be wrong with her after his shift ended, and he tapped on the steering wheel, his thoughts all over the place.

The assertive Michael Clifford was determined to get her story.

He drove to the small coffee shop two blocks away from home and took a seat in his normal booth; the second to last one on the right. He ordered his usual, and looked down at the wooden table covered in the green cloth. He always thought the best here.

As the waitress came around to bring him his coffee, he was lost in thoughts of the girl.

He took out a napkin, and pulled out his phone, putting it next to the coffee, which sat to his left. He pulled out his pen from the red collar shirt pocket, the one he wore to work.

He began to write.

He wrote down all he could find that might be wrong with her, and things he can do to help. Why does Michael always care about people? People he didn't know had such an effect on him. Well, enough to make him sit in a coffee shop and do a little bit of research. But what can he say? He just likes being kind.

The girl at the table next to him, another regular that Michael has became close friends with, smiled at him and scooted into his booth. The keys in her pockets clanged as she took a seat, staring down at Michael's phone and napkin.

"What are you doing?" She asked, tilting her head. Michael didn't really bother to look up, he was so focused on this he barely even heard her.

"Well, Jasmine...This girl, she came in crying today at work. I mean, she covered her face the entire time she was in there, and she spoke in such a quiet tone. I tried to talk to her and she seemed to just...push me away. I had to find out what was wrong. But there isn't anything here that is linked to something like that, well, yet." He said, scrolling through articles and pages of people who were insecure. But nobody was quite that upset about their own body.

Jasmine's face sunk. She began to grow pale and her palms started to sweat. She gulped and then started to speak again.

"Well, Michael. I think I know what that possibly might be."

Jasmine Andrews, age of 28, works as a therapist around the small town. She had about, 76 clients within the year, and 4 regulars. One of them, on which, happened to be going through what this mystery girl was, too.

It was something called Body Dysmporphic Disorder, otherwise known as BDD.

People who claim to have BDD are very critical about their bodies. Some call it a case of being insecure, but BDD was far worst. For example, someone with BDD will look at themselves in the mirror and not see how skinny they are, in fact, they might see about a very large increase in weight. Or someone with clear skin, might look at themselves and see pimples everywhere. To shorten it, Even if there wasn't anything wrong to the naked eye, people with BDD noticed imperfections everywhere.

Jasmine took Michael's phone and searched up the disorder. She slid it back to him, and he picked it up, and started to read.

After finishing the page, he set down the phone carefully, and then he began to write on the napkin.

Though, Jasmine wasn't allowed to speak of her own patient, she talked about the small documentary she saw when she was first in training. The particular case had a BDD girl who became anorexic. She said that the girl constantly looked into mirrors. She always did, even if she hated what she saw.

Micheal slowly shifted his gaze from the napkin to the window. In it, he can see a distinct reflection of himself.

Mirrors, He thought. That's what's hurting her.