Reflections

      I stand in a hallway, watching students roll by. I see girls who laugh because they know no one has ever seen them cry.

I see girls who bury their eyes in books because they don’t want to face a world where there is no Prince Charming.

I see girls who wave pom-poms because they like the feeling of being the best.

I see girls who dance in their bedrooms like a swan princess, but act as clumsy as they can so no one will look at them twice.

And then I see a girl over by the trophies. She is smiling, but only because she knows she doesn’t look like any of those girls. She looks like she doesn’t have to hide, she doesn’t have to pretend. She does whatever she wants.

But she has a secret in her eyes. And I see what she does hide. She hides her life, because every time she looks back, all she finds is disappointment.

Then I see one last thing: That girl is my reflection. So I turn away, because I realize I am like those other girls. I have a secret. I live a lie. The lovely facade I wear every day is just that.

So I walk down the hall, passing cheerleaders, bookworms, Goths - an array of worlds that somehow match. Because all the faces I see have the exact same smile as me.