shattered reflections

You stand in front of the sink, white-knuckled hands gripping the white porcelain, hooded eyes avoiding the square of reflective glass before you.

Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook

Eyes are windows to the soul, and mirrors are reflections of truth.

You don’t want to see what’s in your eyes. You don’t want to see the stained glass hidden behind your lids.

Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook

The temptation is there, simmering under the surface, just like it is every morning. Just like every time you pass a mirror or a window. It’s always there; what matters is that you not give in.

You’re beginning to forget what you look like now. It’s been so long, but you can’t take the risk. The only reminders you get now are blurry, indistinct snatches of you in car windows and glass doors and peripheral vision. You don’t remember what color your eyes are. You don’t remember a lot of things, but asking would be strange. You’d draw attention to yourself. You don’t want attention. You have spent years perfecting the art of camouflage. You are the master of disguise; if you don’t want to be seen, you won’t be.

Don’tlookdon’tlooknolooking

You are invisible, fading into the shadows perfectly. You don’t really exist, not anymore. No one remembers you; no one knows you ever existed in the first place. You have reached your goal of complete invisibility.

The only thing you can never fool are the mirrors. They alwaysalwaysalways know you’re there. You’ve given up on fooling them; you just need to make sure no one sees the reflection without a body.

Don’tlook… look.Giveupgiveinjustdoit.

So…. for the first time, you give in. You look. Eyes flicker hesitantly up, knowing it’s a bad idea but unable to stop yourself.

Tired, deadened, washed out eyes meet themselves. They freeze, unable to move away. You are transfixed by the smoky portals to your very own soul. You see and see and see, down to your core.

People always said you had great eyesight. You learned, years ago, how to use that to see the real truth of things, buried under layers and layers of lies. Eyes are the key. You just need one quick glance into someone’s eyes, and you know exactly who they are.

You waited a long time to look yourself in the eyes. You never had a problem seeing into others’ souls, but looking at your own terrifies you. You don’t want to know yourself- you don’t want to know who you really are. If you don’t look, there’s always hope.

You know who you think you are, and you don’t want that to be the truth. So you don’t look. Ever. To be that thing…. you would destroy yourself.

But now… now you are, now you’ve given in, and oh…. this is more than you’d ever dared hope for.

Past the shields that hide all you are from everyone but yourself; past the shattered remains of happiness and childhood innocence; past the long years of utter silence and stillness and solitude; past all the darkness you’ve seen at too young an age; past the spiked fences you’ve erected to keep the shadows at bay; past all that, there is a light. Tired and old and worn, but there.

It’s bright as a shooting star, and it is you.

Rain splatters down your cheeks, and you aren’t invisible anymore.