I stared at the girl before me. The voices in my head from the years before were echoing inside.

You are so smart. I wish I could have a mind like yours
You are talented. The words you write on the page are gold.
I know you will do so great one day.

The girl they talked about was someone I couldn’t recognize.

I touched my face and the girl in front of me touched hers. My fingers traced down to my lips where a smile usually sat. I tried to curve  them but it hurt, so I let them fall into a grim line.

Much better.

I felt the tingles as my hand reached my eyes and the girl had bags under hers. I caught a glimpse of something shimmering in her eyes; tears. Why was she crying?

My cheeks are wet.

I stared at her face and saw the pale skin that clung to her bones. She looked like she could be healthier.  Be happier. I wanted to make her happier.

But what is there to be happy about?

I couldn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. I didn’t know who she was. My eyes focused on her until her face became disoriented and blurred. I blinked and could only see a mess of her.
A mess of me.
My hands fell limp to my side as I watched us cry together. She didn’t reach out to me. I didn’t reach out to her. I didn’t want to know her. I didn’t want to know me.

The girl everyone talked about, the girl in the mirror and the girl who I thought I was had nothing in common. They stood out. For better and for worse. No one knew who the real me was. I don’t know who the real me is. I feel like if I did it would make even less sense to me. I’m not smart. I’m not talented. Who was that girl in their heads? She was not me. She can’t be.
Why did the girl in the mirror have to resemble me? Why was my reflection the scariest thing I’ve ever seen?
Why did she make more sense to me than the girl in everyone else minds?

She was hurting. She was broken.

*Am I broken?