The Mirror

In the darkness of the cold and silent bedroom, Emily was thinking out loud. Sat at her dressing table, like every morning, she had no idea of time anymore. The glowing dawn was full of bloody colours and she could not remember the last time she slept. It was finally time for her to go to bed after a long night of work she had already begun to forget.

She was facing the most dangerous object for humankind.

It was a very refined glass - she liked to believe it was Italian or French - framed by gilded figures. These figures represented angels, but the wear of this old piece of furniture made them look like malicious demons. Emily knew it was childish but, every time she was looking at herself in the mirror, she had the awful feeling that all these little evil creatures were starring at her, with a rictus of gargoyle. The longer she used the mirror, the longer she felt attracted by the thought of forever having a look at herself.

She suddenly felt like she was sinking in her chair, so she immediately stood up and started preparing herself.

She thought that walking through her room would give her confidence, bit she caught a glimpse of her silhouette, lit by the flickering glimmer of the candles on each wall. She could never get rid of the mirror easily.
Since she was thirteen years old, she existed only through her body. Indeed, it was not with her spirit that she earned a living. Therefore she was linked to this horrid mirror, as if she was victim of a curse. Its poisonous advice were loud to her ears, and she had no one else to listen to. Especially at night, she would let it control her.
Instinctively, she took a step and observed all the details of her body. She was very beautiful, fresh and young. Her hair was smooth and her eyes were bright. Like always, she removed her corset with a thrill of pain and her suspender belt with a sigh of relief.
What a terrible vision ! Her reflection slowly faded and changed into something very close to a monster. Her naked body seemed fragile and damaged. Her thick and messy hair were tentacles falling on her shoulders, her pale skin was now grey, and her tired eyes appeared grotesquely swollen.
Emily, although accustomed, almost fainted. The reaction of the mirror this morning was particularly violent. The golden demons had left the frame and were now floating around her with tormenting voices. She fell on her knees. She got hit by a myriad of harmful feelings like sadness, despair and disgrace. Above all, she was seized with a powerful anger.

She was ugly.

Her life had no purpose. It vanished just like her appealing physiognomy.

In a last half-conscious gesture, she threw one of her shoes toward the mirror that exploded in shards of cutting glass, reflecting the light of the rising sun.