The Glass

Photo Credits: Makenna Schumacher

I stared at my reflection in the glassy mirror. My eyes were not the same bright color as they were before. My face seemed to droop and fall like a dead flower. The wind blew softly on my face and carried my hair with it. I gazed at the faces beyond the window. People were smiling, drinking, laughing away the sad moments in life. Their joy brought me farther and farther down.

I walked up the street beside my apartment. I figured that if I kept walking, the sadness would rub off on the dusty sidewalk and spill into the sewer. From there, it would be taken to the dark abyss of time and never return to my cold lonely body. I was lost in the world that was filled with hope but for some reason, I had none. My mind was set on the fact that I would never be the person I wanted to be and that I would live my life being a follower, a loner.

Being a writer, I had very little friends. I had the neighborhood kids and the girl down the street, but no true friends. I never had sleepovers, parties, or even dates. I would always focus on my writing, a new level of devotion. The girls at school would laugh at me and tease me. The boys would never even speak to me. I was off in my own world in that little corner of the room. The teacher called it "Your Corner." She would say this while snickering under her own breath. It was the gateway to myself.

When I write, it makes me feel as if I am larger than life. I run across prairies, valleys, and fields. Swim through rivers, across lakes, and through the sky. I escape into my own land and be free. I end up falling for my imagination. I wont ever escape. Thats why I am so shy. My imagination controls me and makes me who I am, the loner.

As I sit on the front porch of my building, watching the clouds roll past and listening to the cars drive by, I dive into my imagination. I am that girl sitting on that porch on your street, stuck in her imagintation, happier than ever. Thats the girl for whom I saw in the mirror, the glass.