Aria-Sorry we kinda got lost in an alternate dimension and so on and son
Amore-This is for project beautiful the idea was from xx-onwednesdayswewearpink-xx and were joining
Aria-You are beautiful remember that always though the story has certain topics don't imitate it this is for
us Kay? be you because that is beautiful and there will always be people there for you
Amore-disclaimer and all that stuff
Aria-welcome to reflection
Reflection
Reflection... When you see you reflection what do you see? Do you see a fabulous diva? A charming boy? A bookworm? a nerd? A guy trying to be cool? I see when i look in the mirror, hope. No, not Pandora I am not anywhere close to a goddess. Nope, I see a girl...a girl with deteriorating hope. Dreams slowly becoming nightmares, Light slowly becoming dawn than darkness. I see a girl slightly broken, with a plastered smile and a lost face. With almost mechanical movements without any soul or life. Like the tin-man wishing to be oiled. I close my eyes as tightly as possible thinking it would make me someone else or i would magically transform in front of my bathroom mirror. I open my eyes and see me with dead blonde hair and deader chocolate eyes. I think of the events of the past day and clench my pale white fists. The problems started last month but have been rapidly escalating. Everything was NOT perfect though some may think so. I've been called strong and beautiful but i don't see it. I may act "strong" due to my stubbornness and quick-tempered inherited by both my mother and father who have been ignoring me about two weeks after this fateful day. The mirror was mocking me showing how horrid i am to this world, i'm sure of it so i punched it with as much force as i could muster. The glass shattered ripping and cutting my fragile skin. I saw blood breaking through dripping on the ivory floor. It hurt, It hurt like hell but it also felt good not only to feel the blood run down my skin but to see it. There was an odd comfort in my pain and my blood. The mirror was now broken falling onto the ground or onto the sink. I hold the shard in my hand and examine the broken piece. Sharp jagged edges, a long crack going from one side to another. Yet, through all the chaos you could still see your reflection. I washed off my bloody knuckles then wrapping them in gauze. Doing all while looking at the broken shard. I was staring contently at it. Focusing all my attention on the single piece sharp enough to cut me again. I Stared at it until i had an overwhelming urge, an uncontrollable feeling to i couldn't stop no matter how much i wanted to it was an urge and uncontrollable , indescribable feeling that i couldn't help.
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