Stranger With My Face

One day I saw a stranger. She looked so much like me, I was inclined to say hello. As I smiled she smiled back. She showed no teeth, her efforts strained. Her cheeks had traces of tears, and her eyes full of pain. She was pale, her hair unkept, and her clothes torn. Obviously she had no home. I felt sorry for this girl, and it must have shown on my face because she laughed. She was laughing at me! As if I was the one with the problem. Then she spoke to me. She said, “Why do you hide your tears? Are you ashamed? Why do you feel this way about me? I’m still here. I’m always here, and I’m not going away. Ever. Please, don’t keep me locked away. Let go, let the sorrow run free. Why do you torture me? I only want a chance to see the sun, a chance to escape the cold of where I am. Can you do that? Can you show me warmth, can you give me life? Can you let me out of my cage? I do everything for you. I harness what you can’t throw away. I love you. Love me, let me out please.” This girl was nearly in tears. I was really getting the creeps and had to leave. I told this child she was confused. I told her she was crazy and she needed help. I told her I wasn’t who she thought I was. “You’re not who anyone thinks you are,” she whispered. It was at this point I decided to swear off talking to strangers. Feeling more pity for her than I ever had, I sadly waved goodbye. And as she waved back, the mirror cracked, distorting her image; distorting my life. At that moment I broke down in tears. The stranger with my face was free.