here is a story i wrote
it is something called microfiction, or really short stories
i wrote it when i was depressed, which might explain some things to you
A Reflection
I was looking at my reflection, and it was looking right back at me. A mirror image, an image in a mirror. I was standing there, wondering, is the person in the reflection the real one, and am I just a reflection of her? Suddenly a rock shattered the glass. I turned around to see a dark figure running away. “Stop!” I yelled. “Take the shattered glass with you!” For the glass was sadness, a heavy cloak of depression. A perfect whole, shattered into many pieces. I stared at the pieces, seeing my face broken into so many parts. All the jagged edges cutting away at the skin. I pieced the puzzle back together, but what difference did it make? The lines and cracks still pierced through the image, and it was never to be whole again.
The cloak was smothering me in depression. I threw it off, breathing in the fresh air. And I got another mirror. One that showed me my reflection again, one that brought happiness, lifted the burden off of my shoulders. Still, each new mirror I buy, what it to stop it from being shattered again?
rapunzel in black
