“What do I see when I look in the mirror? What do you see when you look at me? Are our interpretations the same?” Every morning, I ask the same questions. There are no answers, because I asked the questions rhetorically, of course. I always get the same eerie silence.

Sometimes when I go out I catch a glance in a window, or in a puddle. My sister always scowls at me, and I wonder what I did to make her so unhappy. Is it my looks, attitude, or does she just not like me?

Days are long, without the reflections. Nights are longer as I linger in front of the glass barrier between my sister and I. She is always scowling, and I only want to make her smile. I am unworthy.

One night when the rain fell, I couldn’t see my sister in the glass frame perched in front of me.. Slowly I leaned forward and touched the glass, but Sister wasn’t there! I only saw a dampened stranger’s eyes staring back into mine.

“Sister,” I called, and an echo returned, “Sister!” I could see her struggling in the other world. She was trying to get to me. This stranger was torturing her! Crazed, I slammed my fist against the oval glass and watched my sister shatter into a thousand shards on the floor. I fell; crimson stained hands, and tried to collect all the pieces of her. I gazed into the broken pieces, and only saw myself.