Teacup story – Mirror

Mirror – Casey looked at her selves in her mind’s eye, and then told her diary what she saw (Genre – General, Rating – PG, Universe – The diary of Casey MacFord)

Dear Diary,

In my mind I place a mirror in front of myself and see a thousand different reflections.

There are those reflections of my past, of the person I once was. There is a small girl with a bright smile, small hands clutching lego bricks, barbies, and teddy bears alike. She has mud streaked down the side of her face and dirt under her nails where she has been digging a fort outside.

Then there is the girl, about eleven, smiling back at me. She is dressed in the school uniform she will come to loathe to the very core of her soul, and innocent to the hard times she will face ahead. At least, she still sees the future as golden and bright, full of opportunity and wonder to explore.

Then there is a girl older still, in the awkward stage of teenage hood where she doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of the world. Her teeth are lashed together with metal braces, and her hair sticks to her scalp with oil that will not go away no matter however hard she washes it. Her eyes are still full of wonder, however, and there is a strange resilience about her. Her bright smile is now set in a severe line of determination and grit, her passion for the world has been moulded by the harsh words of others into a fierce determination to prove them all wrong.

There is another girl, a shadow of a girl, who lurks behind the others. She is the girl who I was when determination failed to prove everyone wrong. She hangs her head low, slouches her shoulders, and tries to curl into herself as much as she can. There is a sarcastic edge to her jokes, along with bitterness in the comments she makes about the world. She believes in nothing, she trusts no one, but the determination to prove the world wrong is still there.

There is a girl further still, a few years older, who has stepped out of the shadows and into the light. She stands with her chin raised, shoulders squared, and a witty grin on her face. There is a fire in her, a passion that has been stoked so hot it threatens to burn her to the very core. Yet, as she curls her hands into fists and her grin falls into a predator’s smile, she proves she is still as determined as ever.

There is another girl, a girl in the present and past. She is the one who stands as still as the surface of a frozen lake, blinking rarely apart from trying to take in the world around her. The fire is still within her, but she does not know where to channel it. It flares up sometimes, taking over her mind and making her go the extra mile. Yet it also feeds her insecurity, it feeds the dark thoughts that once consumed the shadowy girl, which now lurk in the back of her mind. She is frozen, a moment in time, trapped in the present and the past.

Then there is another girl, five years older than the on encased in ice. She is hazy, like a half-finished watercolour. The colour of her clothes and skin bleed into one another, her features are indistinct and I cannot tell what her features or body tell me. She is in the future, an unknown locked in time, waiting to be discovered when the frozen girl takes a step forward. It is curious, I think, how she still appears to be standing tall, and her head is raised high like a queen surveying her kingdom. I sense she is strong, and whilst I cannot tell if her hands are curled into fists, I sense she does not need her hands curled into fists. Instead, I think she is confident, and she draws on her own strengths to forge a power unbeknownst to any other.

She is drawn in the same outline of her former selves, a reminder of the path she has walked long ago. Yet her features do not have to tell the same story as the facets of her former selves, she knows that she has the whole wide world to explore and discover. She knows that her past is just a memory, which has no power over her present self.

And whilst I cannot see what her expression is, I like to think she wears the same smile as the girl who once held lego bricks and barbies alike, and the brightness in her eyes is not dulled by the experiences of life. For she has experienced life in all its forms, both good and bad, and knows how to hold her head proudly whatever circumstances are thrown her way.

You know what diary?

What, your silent pages reply.

I think I can become that girl one day.

I know it.

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