A dark hallway. A deep depressing tunnel  in an unknown time leading to an unknown destination, but yet I continue to walk.

A light. So faint yet compared to the darkness it's the beacon of hope that I have no choice to follow.

My walking continues. Each step i take drumming in my ears as they continue being the only sound in this depressing, dark abyss.

My breathing is slow and even, coming in small, strangely noticeable puffs in front of me though I do not feel a chill.

My hands stay outstretched in front of me, trying to reach for the light that still remains so far out of reach

I continue walking. The light slowly getting brighter as I move closer and closer to it. I become about an arms length away then walk into the light and look inside and come face to face with a mirror.

It's overall pretty disturbing as I become face to face with a girl that looks strangely similar to me but I know it isn't for this girl is to perfect.

Her hair is brushed, curls tamed and straight. A clean white dress covers her body from her lower neck to above her knees. Her arms are clean and not a single scratch or scar can be seen, while a painfully clean and pure smile is shown on her face.

I continue to stare at this reflection until I could stand it no longer. I heave a loud mournful cry from the depths of my breasts and push the mirror making it fall to the ground and shatter.

I approach it again, standing over it and looking down into a new reflection. This time it showed something different. Between the cracked shards of broken glass I see...myself.

I see all my scars, and cuts and imperfections, my black tarnished hoodie, unkept curly hair, lifeless green eyes and cold, straight line for a mouth not a single smile in sight.

I become comfortable with this image though, as I slowly kneel down and pick up a shard of the destroyed mirror and stare into it.

The reflection is know different once again. Part of my face resembles the image of the perfect girl from, before while the other part resembles what I saw from the shattered mirror.

My gaze never leaves this image until my eyes open and my sight turns to the white of the ceiling.

I sit up slowly rubbing my eyes and yawning as I groan miserably.

I heave myself up out of bed and look at the time before walking over to my closet and grabbing my school uniform and a pair of black slats.

I straighten my hair, apply my makeup and just before leaving my room, adorn my face with a fake but realistic smile.
As I descend the stairs leading from my room I hold my head high and take light airy steps. For I must create the illusion that I am alright.

I can not show my pain. I can not show my torture. I can not show the hurt and depression. I must hide behind this mirror. I must hide behind this fake expression of my true self. Nothing will free me until this glass shatters, but what kind of monster would want to destroy something as pretty and pure as a mirror?

Everything is alright for me.
Everything is alright for me.
Everything is not alright for me.