The mirror

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just something I wrote that got inspired by simply looking through a mirror and wondering about Marilyn Monroe

Submitted: May 12, 2017

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Submitted: May 12, 2017



Marilyn glanced at the person staring at her; from the opposite direction. A pair of blue eyes, arched brows, and puffed-up lips belonged to the person, along with the signature spot. A mirror secured a barrier between both creatures, forcing each to stand on different worlds. Marilyn touched her pale face as the other woman did the same. Her soft fingers caressed her cheek, in soft circles, it verified as proof that the woman was her. The woman took her lipstick and started to apply it on her full lips. Marilyn's eyes glossed, she knew what was coming, the lipstick turned into a knife as Marilyn's hands trembled and cut the flesh right inside her bottom lip. Blood gushed out of the bruise she had done. Her index finger spread the blood evenly out. The woman smiled at her appearance, beautiful, she thought. Red lips always make a woman attractive, besides, even if Marilyn does not like it, they forced her. More accurately; the woman forced her.

The woman applied blush next. The woman took out the blush and a brush. She dipped the brush into blush and applied it to the apple of her cheeks. Marilyn's jaw tensed; small crystals of broken glass scratched her skin and little cuts bled. The brush massaged the area as it turned into a rosy-pink shade.  The woman suddenly laughed, her cheeks blushing more and her crystal white teeth slightly showing. Marilyn, however, just widened her eyes in astonishment. The woman laughed for absolutely no reason, she thought. The woman continued smiling and Marilyn remembered once again that this was the nature of the woman opposite her. She had to prove to everyone that she was eternally happy. 

She examined the woman again. "She looked like, if you bit her, milk and honey would flow from her" said an artist once, Franz Kline, to describe the woman. It was Marilyn's time to laugh. If only people knew the soul that inhabits this woman. If only they noticed the mask that hides Marilyn. Only the diaries and poems reveal Marilyn and nothing else. Ever since Marilyn appeared on the screen, the characters she portrayed started eating her up. And now, Marilyn merely saw her real self in the mirror. A man entered the hotel room.

"Are you read Miss Marilyn?" he asked.

No answer was given.

"Miss Marilyn" he repeated, while observing her while she stared at her reflection.

"Wait, I'm observing her" she answered slowly as she tried to concentrate.

"Observing who?" he asked; her answer confused him.

"The woman in the mirror" the man irritated her with his stupid questions.

"They are waiting for you", he sensed her annoyance and hurried outside.

The woman stared at her reflection; bruised and hurt. Marilyn only stared back, with a few tears trickling down her face. Marilyn's eyes begged for freedom. The woman knew how hurt her real self was. But she can't turn back now. Not when the whole world watched her.

© Copyright 2019 Ash_R. All rights reserved.

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