What You Make of It

“You look pretty today.”
“Thank you.”
The little girl placed a tiara on her head and spun so her tutu twirled around her waist. She looked like a real princess now. She spun again and skipped away.

“Your hair looks nice.”
“Hm.”
The same girl pushed her hair behind her ear. It was longer now, just as she was taller. She bared her teeth and examined the foreign metal before walking away.

“Cute outfit today.”
“Thanks.”
The new teen adjusted her top for the thousandth time that morning. She turned to leave, but paused before she vanquished the lights. Without turning she bowed her head, “You wouldn’t lie…would you?”
“Of course not.”
She didn’t look back.

“That’s pretty.”
“Oh shut up.”
The young woman applied another layer of makeup and pushed at her chest, wishing for it to be bigger and for her hips to be smaller. She shifted uncomfortably in front of the glass and added more eye liner.
“I don’t lie—”
“Stop. Just stop.”
The girl walked out.

The mirror was silent when the college girl stumbled in—her makeup smeared and her movements slurred with alcohol.
“Well?” She asked.
The mirror didn’t say anything.
“That’s what I thought.”

The mirror remained silent for several years. Whenever the girl came back he respected her wish and never spoke, leaving her to make her own judgments.

The girl eventually wandered back in—almost grown up but not quite. She looked desperately at the silent glass. It only stared back. In a flash of hatred, she slammed her fist against the smooth surface. The hatred wasn’t for the old mirror, but for herself. The mirror cracked under the weight of her despair. She looked at the distorted image of herself, smeared with blood and tears.

She vanished again.

A crack of light seeped into the attic. A small pair of eyes came to a rest on the broken mirror. Small hands brushed dust and cobwebs away, then a small face peered into the cracked glass.
“You look pretty today.”
The small face smiled, “Thank you.”

****
The girl left when her name was called. A bigger set of footsteps walked hesitantly where the younger ones had just been.
The woman looked down at her reflection. She pushed her hair behind her ear and tried a small smile, “You look nice today.” She whispered.

“You do too.”