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Mirror
When he was alone, he was never whole. He had no friends, no family, nothing. He would stand and stare in the mirror and see the freckle-faced ginger kid, kicked out by his mother, left to wander the streets and beg for food and money. Ignored by the upper classes, beaten down by the lower.
When he was alone, he was never whole, not in mind, and not even in body. The prosthetic on his arm wasn't enough to make up for his lack of a real one. He had been born incomplete and unwanted.
When he was alone, he didn't have to smile. He didn't have to make others laugh to make himself feel better. He didn't have to smile when on the inside, he cried. He didn't have to pretend, because the scowling face in the mirror knew everything, and it knew when he was lying to himself.
When he was alone he didn't have to hide the tears. He didn't have to bite his lip until it bled to keep from crying out, or stifle his sobs. He didn't have to be happy all the time.
When he was alone, he was never whole. Missing an arm, lying through his teeth, forcing his emotions, locking others away. Joking to hide the pain, smiling to hide the tears, laughing to hide the screams.
When he was alone, he thought, and he hated to think, because thinking always led to one thing being thought. When he was alone he couldn't help but think. Couldn't help but wonder if they were doing the right thing, if what they were doing was worth it.
But it didn't matter because he was never alone for long. He made sure of it. When he wasn't alone, he wasn't a broken kid on the inside, wishing he had enough food, enough money, a family, friends. When he wasn't alone he didn't have to think about his reflection, the tired young man who cried and wished he could go back in time and change everything. When he wasn't alone he was a jester, a character, playing his part, wearing his mask, and that would never change.
Until he was alone again, and it all came crashing down.