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Me In The Mirror This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

I stood still in front of the full length mirror. Covered in goosebumps, I placed my fingertips on the reflection of my face. It was different from the last time I looked, and the last time hadn't been too long ago. What had happened in between? My eyes were brighter and wider and they were deep oceans of chestnut and beryl and limestone. They explained what had happened in one word, one simple word that sent the wings of the butterflies in my stomach flapping. A name, truthfully. And it still felt unbelievable, hearing the word with my name. Together like two puzzle pieces, for lack of a better simile. But it was more than a puzzle - the piece was my heart in the operation. The surgeon held it in his rubber gloved hands and watched it beat. He smiled and kissed my cheek. The best feeling was his warm cheek on mine, and I felt it even with my heart in his hand.

I stared up and down the length of my body. My skin shone; sparkled like a vampire's. It wasn't its old, dull shade anymore, and I liked it. My legs felt longer, like I could maybe jump across an ocean or walk to the moon. My lips were pinched red and they lingered with a captivating feeling after having been touched. Everything was moving at one time, and I felt it on the inside - my blood rushing and pulse racing and nerves surging. The change was slowly pushing its way inside me now. People noted it but remained wordless because maybe this new person was the better version. It was too early to tell but I could feel it inside, the dangerous flame that licked my heart and threatened to burn.

What if it was for the worse? But part of me didn't care because at least I was living. I took my hand off the mirror and examined it. The creases of my palm were deep and I saw his hand in mine, fitting so naturally; effortlessly. I folded my hands and took a peek back at the mirror. The person I saw looked back at me with those twinkling eyes that spoke of warnings and dangers. But they didn't tell me to steer clear. They didn't tell me to avoid it. Or maybe it was just me, telling myself to jump. To take the chance, to leap to the moon. My heart was full and ripe and ready, and he was waiting to hold it. Gently, so as it wouldn't bruise. And I didn't know how it would turn out - no one ever did.

Reputations stayed sealed in the mirror. I saw the old me; glimpses of it suddenly appeared on occasion and I just watched, because I didn't know if I really wanted to take her back - the old me. People approached and offered opinions but we ignored them and you took my hand, put your head on my shoulder, and whispered in my ear, tickling my heartstrings. I didn't know how it was supposed to be, but I knew that I liked what was happening.




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