Mirror Mirror
Mirror, mirror, on the wall who is the fairest one of all?
I may not be the fairest of them all, but I am certainly the wall. Just because of the piece of glass I carry around in my hands. I feel like nothing, because I am treated as nothing. I may as well be a wall.
A wall feels nothing, a wall hears everything. I am supposed to both of those. And of course in the fables I hear that are told to the other, the normal, children the mirror sits on the wall.
A mirror sits on my lap, clasped in my hands; does that make me a wall? I am pale enough to be one. My skin, hair and clothes, all the same shade of white used to paint the wall.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall who is the fairest one of all?
The evil queen who asks that question controls the life of the mirror and the wall. And how come the wall never gets any attention? Is the wall not just as special as the mirror?
I must make the mirror reply, the mirror says things that I do not. My queen will be angry, and although my queen is actually a guy, he thinks he is a king, my queen will be angry if he is not the fairest of them all.
He studies the mirror from dusk till dawn, sometimes never uttering a word. But when he does it is not the made up- Mirror, mirror, on the wall who is the fairest one of all?
It is the real life, Mirror Mirror, in her hands, who of thee controls these lands? And of course it is him who does. But one night will come when he will look into the mirror, first seeing the reflection, then he will ask his question, and his face will morph into that of a group of travelers. A silver haired hanyou, a demon-slayer, a monk, a young kitsune, a nekomata, and black-haired priestess.
That day is the when my mirror will be smashed. Thrown against the floor. Shattering into millions of pieces, like my heart as I watch it break.
Mirror Mirror, in her hands, who of thee controls these lands?
But sadly, walls have no heart. Nor do I.