She stood in front of the mirror, stripped naked, bruised, and vulnerable, gazing at her reflection with teary eyes. Small rivulets flew down her cheeks and left behind traces of their painful existence. Her big, black eyes stared hard at the stranger looking back at her, screaming silently at the pain invoked upon her every day and night. Beautiful, gorgeous, and angel-like – the adjectives sound hollow and do not justify the expression reflecting through the glass tapestry. All she could see at that moment were the deep gashes of loneliness and despair that her beautiful exterior hid from the world. She could see the shattered pieces of her bleeding heart piercing through her perfect porcelain skin around her chest. Her breaths came in convulsive gasps as she tried hard to swallow the lump forming in her throat. It was choking her from the inside as she pressed her palm against her chest to ease out the exploding heart.
Her innocent eyes questioned – who am I? A woman, human, or simply a playful toy for the world to exploit and discard when the time seems fitting. Will she be able to lay bare her heart? Oh no! Emotions are not acceptable in the cruel world. Yet she is supposed to feel and respond like a human…Correction! Feel and react like a woman but act like a lifeless robot. Her slender shoulders hung low with the burden of expectations and demands of society. Yet her wounded soul articulates the atrocities that are deemed a norm. The dark circles around her eyes are a testament to her several failed attempts at trying to fit in the group but still appear a misfit – or is different from the world preferred by the rest.
She felt the painful dryness in her throat as the remaining flicker of her soul screamed for a tiny draught of hope to survive. But the burden of expectations felt heavy, crushing the last signs of life in her. She fumbled weakly, her lips trembling in traumatic fear. Can I live for a day? But she quickly shut her lips tight as her ears throbbed from the condescending world to perform the role she was chosen to play.
Another burst of emotions opened more floodgates of emotions, and her body twisted and bent in woeful convulsions. She knew it was the last straw….
Then, rose from the ashes of failed hopes, desires, wants, and dreams, an apparition so grotesque that even the mirror couldn’t help clearing the distortion. With a whip of a brush on her face and a dash of bright red hues on her lips, she painted the perfect camouflage. The corner of her lips twitched in evil jest as she took one last look at the reflection. She felt devilishly proud of the Frankenstein she had built up from the ashes of the lost girl who is ready to give her award-winning performance just like everyone expects out of her. She felt more exhilarated at the demise of the woman who was once a living, breathing human. Now, all that is left is an evil shadow that will walk the Earth, preying and being preyed.
