Author's Note: This is the beginning of a new series; "Sinners". This is the chapter for vanity. I own nothing but the story. Please enjoy.~
I pressed my hand against the glass touching and caressing the figure before me. This wasn't my fault. My other hand snaked its way up my neck, wrapping the slim beautiful fingers around it. Why can't I do any of those things? My left hand dropped from the mirror to run itself over my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. This was wrong, I was wrong. Beautiful. The word was whispered into my mind as if my Satan himself.
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
A laugh escaped my lips as the memories flooded into my mind. It was their fault. I never thought this about myself before. It was their fault. Theirs. I can do no wrong.
I was young when they brought me to this temple, so young I don't even remember what my parents looked like. They brought me here and took me into a room filled with mirrors. Endless views of my own reflection. A man sat in front of me and introduced himself. "I am the head of the temple, Toya Hoshizuki. Sasuke, please make yourself at home." He smiled a wicked smile that sent chills down my back. I looked at the floor trying not to look at my own reflection but even the floor bore my image. A reflection of soft features, that then I did not believe to be perfect.
Days past and I only left the room to excrete. The hallways and bathrooms were beginning to bear a similar resemblance to my room, as with each trip another mirror was discovered. My meals were brought to me, but with each visitor the only words they would speak to me were variations of the phrase "You're beautiful."
Within a month the second phase of their plan had begun to roll in motion. I was stripped of my clothes and forced to be entertained with my naked body. The body became interesting; I began to inspect it, every inch of it. Touching, looking, craving. But I wasn't the only one. They wanted my beauty. They wanted my perfection. A man was the first to dare it. When he undressed I began inspecting him as if it were my own body, looking and finding many imperfections. He took a step closer and I knew what he was going to do. I didn't move. There was nowhere to run in this glass prison. There was no hope. His disgusting hands brought me down flat on my stomach and spread my legs, touching and petting my head. Over and over he shoved. It was painful, but I was distracted. Did my face really look like that? My eyes would roll back and my mouth open as I screamed in ecstasy. Fool. He thinks he did this to me. Fool. I did this. Only a face like mine could be this perfect.
He left me there to roll in my own filth, but I wasn't alone long. Another. Then Another. The two or three at once. I lost count. I wasn't paying attention. I had to touch my skin. Beautiful. The voice whispered over and over. I'm beautiful. When the last one closed the door I rolled onto my aching butt and stared up at my endless reflection. There were tears stinging my eyes. Don't cry, you're not as beautiful then. Quickly, I brought a smile to my face and released an evil laugh.
"Beautiful!" I screamed. "Perfect!" My laughter increased as I began to make an angel in the pool that had formed around me.
I open my eyes as I stare into the eyes of my reflection. I pushed against the glass prison as hard as I could. It cracked. Right over my face. I screamed as I reached for a piece of the glass and used its sharpest edge to gouge my eyes. Never again would I see such imperfects. Now my only memory is of my own beauty. What a wonderful memory.