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27. Mist

Nothing really mattered anymore, did it? She was alone, and she lacked companionship, a helping hand to guide her through this mist, this endless sea of confusion and doubt. Sally wished, damn did she wish that she could travel back in time and alter her past.

Blue eyes, dull and lacking their usual spark, gazed at her reflection through the broken shards of the shattered mirror. She looked down at her first, bloodied with bits of glass embedded in it. She felt the lingering touch of pain, but she welcomed it, wanting it to consume her.

As she stared at herself, she frowned, repulsed by her weakened state. Tears stained her face, and she looked so broken and defeated, it made her heart weep. Whoever thought that being a princess was easy, that it was nothing more than a glamorous, fun lifestyle, was an idiot and deserved to be shot and torn into pieces.

Those little girls who dreamed of being royalty had no real clue as to how lucky they truly were, and Sally found herself wishing she was in their shoes.

Life, no matter how one diced it, wasn't as easy people liked to believe it to be, and the rich weren't immune to hardships and suffering either. She was just like them, trying to carve a path and make a name for herself, but it was difficult when she had people cruelly judging her for being what she was; it was as if they were just waiting for her to slip and fall flat on her face.

She didn't ask to be a princess, to be of royal blood. She never asked for any of this. The sad thing about it was that Sally never asked for what she received, and she simply had to keep moving forward and play the hand God had dealt her.

Sally stood in her bathroom and used its mirror to stare at herself since she, in her fit of rage the other day, smashed the mirror in her room. She couldn't help but frown at her reflection. Even though it had been over two years since she left home to carve her own path to follow, she couldn't help but feel like she hadn't changed.

She no longer looked like a trapped little girl, but she still felt like it, if that made any sense. Sally squinted harder at her reflection, trying to figure out what still remained the same. She no longer wore those stuffy dresses, opting to wear more casual clothes.

She wore a plain pink T-shirt, black, fingerless gloves, faded blue jeans, and black and white Converses. She was also more outspoken and assertive; she no longer feared speaking her mind or doing things she actually enjoyed.

Sally ran her fingers through her hair, growling in mild frustration. When she peered harder at her reflection, her gaze zoomed in on her hair, and her eyes widened in realization. It was her hairstyle that still remained the same! Her mother insisted that she keep it long because it made her seem more elegant and like a princess.

Now, while Sally didn't dislike long hair, she didn't like why she grew her hair out. She kept her hair long because her mother wanted it long, not because she wanted it long.

Upon coming to such a conclusion, she wasted no time running to her room, grabbing a pair of scissors and slowly walking back to her bathroom, kicking her door shut.

"Time for a makeover," Sally whispered. Taking a deep breath, she began to carefully cut her hair, almost wincing with every snip she made. After what seemed like forever, Sally finally stopped and put the scissors on her bathroom counter, eyeing her reflection with interest.

Her hair, which stopped at her waist before she cut it, now stopped at her neck. Her face broke out into a bright smile, and she felt as if a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. Now her hair fit the new her, the new Sally Acorn.

As she gazed at her reflection, she felt like the pieces finally fell into place; it was like she was seeing things through new eyes, and it felt amazing.

"There's no turning back now." And Sally knew that she didn't want to nor would she ever turn back. After all, everything for a reason.