She stands in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection..
The mirror is lying again.
Her bedroom mirror shows a strikingly beautiful girl. Gorgeous, smooth, slightly wheatish skin. Big beautiful light brown eyes. A stunning mane of shiny, jet black curly hair. Not the crazy curls, those soft natural ones..
She was a petite girl. She’d always been the tiny one among her group of friends as a kid and teenager. Now in her twenties, she was still the tiny one all her friends liked to boss around. But that was all. She had a piercing voice, one that could be heard through at least 5 different rooms on a floor if she screamed loud enough. She was a little cracker. Friends said she lit up every room she entered, literally and figuratively.
She was the kind of girl that could brighten up your day even if she couldn’t brighten up her own..
There she was, in front of her best friend again. Her bedroom mirror. A full length mirror, fixed into a glistening piece of dark wood. She’d always wanted one in her room.
Today, the mirror told her a different story. The little fireball of a girl had been replaced by a terrible mess. She stared at herself. Dreadful skin, with purplish bruises already on their way to darkening to a black color. Bloodshot eyes, with the mascara still running down her face. Her delicate curls were very badly knotted and twisted..
Her black dress was in tatters. The back had been ripped open, the front had a scarily long gash. Her stilettoes were in her hands. The heel of one of them had split apart from the rest of the shoe. Her tears wouldn’t stop. There was nothing stunning or gorgeous about this girl. There wasn’t anything even remotely pretty..
He’d broken her heart.. and to some extent, her bones..
For the first time.
