Mabel stood alone in the room. Facing a mirror, covered by a sheet, she dared to show herself the truth. Stepping towards it, she revealed the image staring right back at her. It was her. The thing she dreaded the most in her life. Sighing, she knew it was irrational for her to fear such a thing. Yet, she couldn't help distrust it. It wasn't what she thought of herself, more like a mirage to cover her up.
Biting her cheek, she was afraid to see what the others saw of her. Yet, she looked on forward anyways. Running a hand through her hair, her eyes peered on, seeing what the other's saw. Long, feminine locks they called it. Fitting along with her short skirts and over sized sweaters. A girl is what they all saw. But a girl, she couldn't be.
Mabel looked down crestfallen. After all, why of all people in the world, why couldn't she just be what people wished for her. She wasn't smart like Dipper, "normal" and she couldn't even fake it like Grunkle Stan. The last possible thing she could be was a princess, the ones in the fairy tales everyone loved.
Yet, she couldn't even be a girl.
It wasn't that she hated her long hair or feminine clothing. Sure, sometimes her own body and style made her feel as if it was betraying her. It was just of what other people wanted to see. They wished for her to grow her hair like Rapunzel and wear her clothing like a little perfect daughter.
And yes, she did often wish to cut her hair short, change her body to the way she saw it, and wear something else beside her long skirts. But most of all, she just wanted to stop this facade. To stop being their daughter. She didn't know if she wanted to be their son like along Dipper or perhaps something between.
All she knew was, she wasn't a girl. She never was a girl and she never could be a girl.
Feeling all this grief and sorrow inside, Mabel brought down her hand on the glass. Before slamming her whole body against it, attempting to make the figure disappear. Of everything that people saw of her. Finally, she felt weary. Sitting down she cried from the pain of the glass.
As while it cut deep into her skin, it didn't cut as deep as their words.