Broken Mirrors

Marcy Fair has always been an overall cheerful girl. She's normally seen smiling and laughing along with her friends, having a good time. But lately, things have been getting stressful for Macy, and it gets harder and harder to keep up her smiles. Between her mother yelling at her all the time, her sister being a brat, nobody listening to her, and living with eight people, eventually (if under enough strain) the mirror just breaks...(oneshot)

“What does it matter?!” I screeched. People were definitely watching us now. I could feel their eyes like white hot flames on my body. But unlike usual, I didn’t flee their gaze.

Instead, I looked her in the eyes, those blue eyes which were now filled with tears and confusion. This girl was Aria Days, one of my best friends.

“I-I don’t—” she stuttered, but I didn’t let her finish.

I’d opened the floodgates, and now I couldn’t stop. All the pain and hurt that I’d been holding in for the past four months was spilling out. Every yell that I took from my mother, every hurtful tease my friends made without trying to be hurtful, every stupid freaking thing I’d put up with silently, as I always did, was now coming out.

I was shattered. This was my last straw.

Aria was a beautiful, smart, and funny girl. She was great to be around, but she didn’t see that. All the time she was beating up on herself. “I’m such an idiot.” or “Oh, I can’t do that.” and even “Why should I try? I’m just going to fail miserably like always.” Our other friends and I had been trying to get her to see that she wasn’t all the things she said she was. But she still didn’t believe it.

“I’m sick and tired of your beating up on yourself!” I yelled, feeling angry tears glistening in my eyes. Aria stared back at me, upset and scared.

“I deal with crap day and night and I get yelled at my by own mother because she’s pissed at the world! You’re a pretty, smart, and awesome girl!! Why can’t you see that?!

“I’ve been hurt inside and have been dealing with it alone for the past four months! You guys, my friends, didn’t even notice!” my voice was getting shrill now. “I get yelled at and punished by my mother practically every night because she’s tired of her life and how it’s so difficult and she doesn’t even stop to think that mine’s difficult too!! I can’t talk to anybody about my problems…and…and everybody thinks I’m okay!”

Tears were streaming down both our faces. I’d dropped my things on the floor in my rage, and there was a small crowd standing around us. I was slightly bewildered that a teacher hadn’t noticed us by now. Out the corner of my eye I noticed Sarah and Nina standing with the crowd, eyes wide and shocked.

Aria continued to stare at me. Her bottom lip was quivering and her face was red. I figured mine was too.

“I’m sorry, Marcy,” she said slowly, her voice choked, “that your life is so hard.”

I pursed my lips together and focused on breathing.

“But did you ever consider my life?” she asked.

Oh no she didn’t. I hated it when people did that. When they take one situation and compare it to another. “One-upping” one of my elementary teachers had called it. Like people are always so set on out doing someone, even if it means proving that you’re more miserable than the other.

“I understand that your life may be hard for you!” I screamed at her. “But my life is hard for me! I hate this! Nobody even cares! I bet nobody would care if I died! Everyone’s so wrapped up in their own problems to notice that I’m falling apart right before their eyes!”

I should’ve known this would happen. It always happens. I’m always wary about confronting people, even if it’s a minor thing like tapping their pencil. I always bite my tongue and stick through it. Things always get better…eventually…

But I saw no end to this madness. It was slowly and painfully driving me insane. I’ve been trained to never object to people, never speak my mind, and always obey. I have to be that way when my mother is my mother. If you object, she turns into a dragon and bites your head off. That’s why my little sister is such a brat.

Never, even when my mother is practically spitting fire, does she ever back down. She always has to roll her eyes, smile when she’s yelling at her, mutter something under her breath, or make some sort of remark or action that just ticks my mom off even more. And when my mother is ticked off, she takes it out on everybody. Especially me.

It’s because I’m such an easy victim. I always take other peoples crap no matter what.

Well…not always.

There was one time, before I’d moved, that I’d confronted someone. Let’s just say I’m emotionally scarred and broken for life, and that I’ll never truly heal. She broke everything inside of me that I thought I’d never need and more. She broke my will, my heart, my soul, and my mind.

But at least back then, I’d had someone to talk to.

Not exactly a someone…this someone was my cat, Louis. Louis was the best. He was always purring, looking for attention. And he had thing habit of rubbing his face on the corners of open books, or your leg, or whatever he could rub his cheek on. And he had the loudest purr in the world.

But the thing that was most special about Louis was the way he was always there. If I was sick and staying home from school, he followed me around the house and curled up next to my legs on the couch. If I was crying in my room, he’d jump up onto the bed and rub up against me as I sobbed and pet him. And now, just when I needed him most, he vanished.

Not vanished, per say. He escaped out our front door six months ago and, in a panic, got hit by a car in the road.

I was distraught. At the end of the first month, I finally just hid my pain with a pretty smile and everything was okay again. No questions asked. I soon began to be fooled by my façade. But not for long.

When summer was over and school began, I was overwhelmed with the drama and cattiness of junior high school. Louis began to come back, and I just used my smile again.

But now the mirror was broken, once again.

Aria stared at me, now angry. But instead of yelling at me, she just walked away.

Somehow, this hurt me more than the last time this happened. Last time, she’d screamed at me. Screaming I can take. I take it from my mother every day and night. But just walking away…that’s just silently saying that they don’t want to bother dealing with you. Even as you scream and yell at them, they just walk away. Because you’re not important enough to use up their precious time of their miserable lives.

The crowd began talking as I fell to my knees among my dropped belongings. I felt a hand start to rub my shoulders, but I struck out. Nina recoiled, rubbing her arms where I’d slapped her away. She and Sarah, eyes dark with hurt and confusion, walked away from me and after Aria.

“Get away from me!” I screamed at the crowd. I spotted the guy I liked, staring at me with bewilderment, but I didn’t care. I saw some other friends of mine, Stephanie, Maria, Nicole, Alexis, but none of them moved and inch to help me. Nobody moved an inch away from me.

“Get the hell away!!” I screeched.

“Break it up!” a voice called. It was Mrs. Richards, the counselor. The crowd began to disperse, the buzz of gossip felt like electricity in the air. I laid down on the cold linoleum floor of the school hall and wrapped my arm around my knees. I ripped my glasses off my face so I could cry freely.

“Miss Fair, please stand up.” Mr. What’s-His-Name, the vice principal, said. I ignored him and continued to cry.

I was on a streak of defiance today.

“Marcy, please.” Mrs. Richards repeated.

Why should I? I wanted to shout at them. Give me one good reason. My friends had just flown out the window, obviously frightened at how broken my soul really was, and I was left alone. We’re always alone. We’re born alone, we live alone, and only through friendship and “love” can we create the big façade for the moment that we’re not alone.

My world, my mirror, my disguise, had just broken. Broken into a thousand little pieces. And now I was left to clean up the mess, alone, like always.

Well...that was just a spur of the moment thing I came up with and typed. I think I like it. There's lots of raw emotion and feeling in it. Well, there you go. My oneshot. Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Then PM me or review! Till next time!

Kicon