Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Who Is The Girl In The Mirror? ❯ Who Is The Girl In The Mirror? ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: ToasterLuver13 
I went on a trip to redsicover myself. Though I asked many questions, not all of them were answered. Mainly for mature readers due to language.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 03.24.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 583 | Visits: 324 | Status: Completed
I went on a trip to redsicover myself. Though I asked many questions, not all of them were answered. Mainly for mature readers due to language.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 03.24.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 583 | Visits: 324 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I went on a journey of self discovery. I asked many questions, though not all of them were answered. I think most of them were answered to tell me who I truely was.
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"He who makes a beast out himself, gets rid of the pain of being man."
-Dr. Johnson
I hope you enjoy-Dr. Johnson
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"Who is that pretty girl in the mirror?" people ask her everyday. And everyday she just sighs, smiles sweetly and says "Me. I am the pretty little
girl inside of the mirror you see." Though it tears her up into shreads when she has to say it each and everytime. When she looks inside the
mirror she sees an empty carcus, not herself. And everyday she reminds herself; I am truely me, I am who I want to be.
Lie. Everytime you look at yourself you have something to complain about. Your weight, height, eye color, hair color,
size your breasts, size of your stomach, anything to make yourself feel like shit for fifteen minutes and
then you finally end up 'loving' yourself. So you fucking shove your fingers down your thorat and watch as the
meals pour out, hoping to be one of the girls you have come to admire and worship.
You pray, hope and cry to be like them. You set crazy ass diets that you only follow for one day, and then
cry some more. "Oh why can't I be like the girls with the cotton pink candy, the pillar box red, the after
midnight blue, the purple haze or the bright as fuck yellow hair?"
Simple. Because you loathe yourself entirely. If you cannot love yourself, how
can you love another? But then you think of reasons to say to avoid the question.
"But I have a vampire red streaks in my hair."
So? Because you have red streaks in your means you're automatically
like the girls you worship? If you put a blue streak in your hair what does that
mean? You have a wild side yet are still considered a good little child? Bullshit.
"Who is that pretty girl in the mirror?" you hear in your mind constantly like a
broken record. After years of self hatred you finally decide to take
action, and break your mirror.
As you pick up the remains of your shattered mirror, you begin to ask
questions of your true being. And then it hits you; "Who IS that girl in the mirror?
Is she flying like how she wants to?"
And then your pledge to begin anew finally starts with the one question;
"Who is the girl in the mirror I see?"
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Like I said, I was on trip of self discovery. I had asked myself these questions. And that was my
first question. Who is this girl in the mirror? And when I was walking back I had the idea to write this down.
Who is that girl in the mirror?: I am me, and the connection to me is me. I am
that pretty girl in the mirror that you see.
girl inside of the mirror you see." Though it tears her up into shreads when she has to say it each and everytime. When she looks inside the
mirror she sees an empty carcus, not herself. And everyday she reminds herself; I am truely me, I am who I want to be.
Lie. Everytime you look at yourself you have something to complain about. Your weight, height, eye color, hair color,
size your breasts, size of your stomach, anything to make yourself feel like shit for fifteen minutes and
then you finally end up 'loving' yourself. So you fucking shove your fingers down your thorat and watch as the
meals pour out, hoping to be one of the girls you have come to admire and worship.
You pray, hope and cry to be like them. You set crazy ass diets that you only follow for one day, and then
cry some more. "Oh why can't I be like the girls with the cotton pink candy, the pillar box red, the after
midnight blue, the purple haze or the bright as fuck yellow hair?"
Simple. Because you loathe yourself entirely. If you cannot love yourself, how
can you love another? But then you think of reasons to say to avoid the question.
"But I have a vampire red streaks in my hair."
So? Because you have red streaks in your means you're automatically
like the girls you worship? If you put a blue streak in your hair what does that
mean? You have a wild side yet are still considered a good little child? Bullshit.
"Who is that pretty girl in the mirror?" you hear in your mind constantly like a
broken record. After years of self hatred you finally decide to take
action, and break your mirror.
As you pick up the remains of your shattered mirror, you begin to ask
questions of your true being. And then it hits you; "Who IS that girl in the mirror?
Is she flying like how she wants to?"
And then your pledge to begin anew finally starts with the one question;
"Who is the girl in the mirror I see?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Like I said, I was on trip of self discovery. I had asked myself these questions. And that was my
first question. Who is this girl in the mirror? And when I was walking back I had the idea to write this down.
Who is that girl in the mirror?: I am me, and the connection to me is me. I am
that pretty girl in the mirror that you see.