Puddle of Misery

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes things get rough but you ARE string enough to get through it. You've just got to believe in yourself.

Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Puddle of Misery

I remember the first time I saw her.  She walked out of a tall red apartment building, on the corner of Carter Avenue.  As she approached the busy street, she pulled out a small mirror, looking at what she thought were her imperfections.  She then went to the closest parked car and stared into the eyes of her own refection.  I could see the insecurity within her face.  She wanted to know who she was…who she was supposed to be.  I could tell by how she did this, that she did it quite often.  So often that it became part of her routine. 

As she crossed the street, her sense of insecurity disappeared.  Her mood had changed to a sudden confidence, one that you would almost consider a little cocky.  She was almost too good at hiding her true self.  The kind of smile that set upon her face, I could tell was not a real one.  But only someone who has seen her the way I have would know that.  She could fool anyone with that false sense of happiness.  She was everything but happy.  But who was she?  Who was this poor girl that had such a hard time finding herself?  Who lived in a world full of depression?  She was me.

I raised an eyebrow at my own reflection.  Her tired eyes and dark circles matched perfectly with her crazy hair sticking up in every direction.  I shrugged my shoulders and turned on my flat iron as my reflection mimicked my movements.  She seemed to be more careless than I’d hoped.  Her gestures were just so…slow and gloomy.  I stopped what I was doing and stared into her eyes.

I could see sadness within them.  There was so much pain and fear, that I couldn’t believe she hadn’t exploded yet.  I watched as her eyes started to glisten.  A small tear escaped from the corner of her eye and journeyed to the bottom of her cheek.  I raised my hand to feel the wetness as her opposite hand did the same.  What was this?  What did it mean?

This single tear that broke along my fingertips carried so much frustration that it was scary to think about how much was left inside.  She looked paler than usual…even a little sick.  She tried to smile, but it was obvious there was no happiness behind it.  Everything about her seemed fake.  “What’s wrong?” I asked her.  But I guess she could ask me the same.  Either way, neither of us would have an answer.  She was as oblivious to the situation as I was.

I sat down feeling a bit woozy, remembering I hadn’t eaten much the day before.  I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if there was anyone staring back down at me.  I wondered if we were alone in this…me and my reflection.  She seemed to be the only one who could tell me how I was truly feeling.  Only this time was different.  We could see the effect, but we couldn’t find the cause.

My stomach was weak, my head was pounding, and nothing seemed to make sense anymore.  I was drowning in my own puddle of misery and no one even cared to notice.  I glanced up at her again and realized something I hadn’t before.  She was in a deep state of denial.  Everything that was wrong was right in front of her eyes.  She was just too naïve to see it.

Things seemed to be getting progressively worse.  Friends were no longer friends, boys completely stopped coming around, and things weren’t all that great at home either.  This girl in the mirror tried to act happy, at least around everyone else.  She didn’t want anyone to know she was alone.  But this happiness…it was just a cover up for all of the weakness and vulnerability that she was really made of. 

I wanted to help her.  I wanted to be strong for her.  I just didn’t know how.  She was so close to just giving up.  I was the only one keeping her from jumping off that edge, but I don’t know how much more she can take.  I stared down at the ugly scars she had made on my arm and I frowned.  The physical pain my body had endured was almost just as much as the emotional pain.  We can’t go on like this.  We have to somehow find the strength to move forward.  And maybe, just maybe…I’ll see the girl I used to know.  The one I knew before I walked out of that apartment building.

Every day after that she started to look a little better.  She seemed more confident that we could really get through this.  I knew that as long as we had each other we didn’t need the rest of the world.  She wasn’t alone, she had me.  And that was never going to change.  People come and go, but all you can really rely on is yourself.  And as long as you have a mirror, you’ll always have someone there.


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