When she looked in the mirror, all she wanted to be was beautiful. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of flaws she saw. When she opened them, the ear she cried became a river. The hair she pulled when anger overtook her thoughts turned into plants that danced gracefully in her river. The skin she clawed off in moments of anxiety hardened into rocks. The blood she spilled formed together with her pain into life. For a second, in her eyes, she was beautiful. Butt, when she opened her eyes, all she saw war the same ugly reflection. The same misshapen face, dull hair, and the awful look of despair in her ugly crooked eyes. The anger overtook her self-pity. She wanted to smash the mirror and grind it into her skin, the mirror that reflected her hate and anguish she wanted other to see. To look beyond her hidden smiles for one and see she was calling, screaming, yelling for help. So she wore her mirror skin and what she found comforted her. She wasn’t alone. Instead of only showing her true reflection it showed everyone else’s too. The boy who made everyone laugh was insecure and hated his body. The nice girl who wasn’t the smartest was brilliant but afraid to show. The thing they had in common was fear. Fear of themselves. Fear of messing up. The fear of not being perfect.