The Mirror

The mirror hung on the wall, unadorned, deadly. I focused my attention on the sparse furnishings of the room, two chairs, the stark white walls, even staring for a time at the naked bulb in the ceiling, hoping to blind myself, lest my gaze be drawn to the mirror’s cold, reflective surface. Finding no visual stimuli I finally resorted to putting my head between my knees and counting as high as I could. I could not look in the mirror. I could not look in the mirror.

In the mirror lay Truth. The harsh Truth. The Truth that they put me in here to find. I ran around the room, going endlessly in circles, again and again and again, but it did not help to occupy my mind. Truth was deadly, but I was drawn to it. I hated it, but I needed to see it. Just one look…NO! That is what they want me to do, how they want me to react. I will not play their game. I will not.

I pounded and pounded on the stark white wall until my knuckles bled, and screamed and screamed at the top of my lungs until my voice grew hoarse and my head light; screamed for someone, anyone, to let me out, just let me out of this godforsaken prison. But no one came.

I collapsed in a miserable heap, my back against the wall, sobbing as the insanity slowly ate away at my mind. How long? How long must I bear this inexplicable torture?

Finally, I turned to face the Truth, and saw, at last, what I had been oblivious to all along. What other’s had seen. It was myself, and yet a stranger. A tiny, wasted stranger. In the stark bright light I could count all my ribs, see my kneecaps clear as day through sickly skin, stretched tight over my skeleton like a drum. Who was this stranger. It’s not me. This is not me. I’m better than that. I’m better…