Mirror, Mirror

Tue, 08/01/2017 - 12:45 -- ariaoh

Once Upon a Time there lived a girl, a happy little girl with a heart made of gold,
  a mind full of intelligence and a beautiful soul.
But it wasn't her heart, her mind or her soul people saw. It was the mask she
  paraded around every day. It was her face full of paint, her hair full of jewels  
  and her body covered in lace.
What society saw was her flawless complexion, her blinding smile, her pretty
  pink lips, her big beautiful eyes, her long luscious hair, her petite silhouette, and
  her confidence.
But what society didn't know was how long it took to put on this mask. For it
  took much longer than just the hour it took for the paint to set. It took years
  of trial and error to keep her complexion flawless. It took years of suffering
  in silence to keep that smile in place on her worst days. It took years of burning
  and pulling at her scalp to keep her hair long and luscious. It took years of
  starving herself to keep her silhouette petitie. And it took years of faking it to
  show, at least in public, just how confident she wanted people to believe she was.
"At least I'm pretty," she thinks every night as she sticks her finger down her
   throat. "At people love me," she tells herself as she looks.
         "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why am I nothing more than just a doll?"
   She asks as she wipes her tears and thinks of just how miserable her life truly is.
   She asks again, "Mirror, Mirror why don't you show what's inside? So society
   might empathize."
"Mirror, Mirror on the all, turns out you're my only friend after all,"
   She tells her mirror everyday as her life passes her by and society continues to
   see her as nothing more than a pretty face. But, she thinks
          "Mirror, Mirror, don't you see? You are slowly killing me."
But after just twenty-nine years of living someone prettier comes along. 
  Someone with lips the color of a rose. Someone with hair black as ebony.
  Someone with skin the color of snow. She asks her mirror as she does everyday,
          "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest one of all?"
  And this is the description her mind whispers. "Snow White," her traitorous
  mind once again whipsers. "Snow White is the fairest one of all"
She looks in the mirror one last time and sees something she wishes she hasn't.
  She sees lines marking her face, showing her age, ruining her once flawless
  complexion. She sees a permamnent grimace maring her face whitening her lips,
  ruining her once blinding smile and once pretty pink lips. She sees her eyes
  slitted in anger, no longer big, no longer beautiful. She sees grey strands of
  thining hair. No longer is it long and luscious. She turns to the side and sees she
  has gained a few pounds, no longer giving her the petite silhouette her mother
  praised her for as a child. As she sees this, the confidence she spent decades
  faking, is shattered and irrepairable. She can no longer fake it. Because now,
  people no longer love her. They no longer tell her she's pretty. "And why would
  they?"
her mind whispers. "Snow White is prettier," her mind continues. And
  though she doesn't want to, she agrees. And so, one last time she whispers to her
  mirror:
                                    "Mirror, Mirror on the wall
                                    Society has broken this doll"

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