Who am I? Do mirrors really reflect yourself, who you are? I don't know, don't know who I am. I am too many people, a different person for each person, just to accommodate their personalities. It's difficult to explain, the feeling of losing one's identity. Most people think it's impossibe. It isn't. I have lost my true self, forever hiding in another body. A false one. A permanent smile, smirk, grin or frown glued onto my face. I made a vow. "I won't die without an identity." And my fate was sealed.

I was in a dark hall. An eerie hall. An empty one. As I walked down the hall, I found a group of mirrors before me. The one in the middle showed a happy, cheerful and smiling girl surrounded with a group of friends. Just like the mirrors were. Both of her hands were holding shopping bags from designer stores and managed to text at the same time. I do not recognise this girl before me, although there is an uncanny resemblance in apperance between the both of us. Was that me? No, it couldn't be. If it was, the girl would not look so unfamiliar.

Further down the hall, there was a mirror in the center of a pile of books strewn across the floor. The girl in the mirror wore black-rimmed glasses and had burried her face in homework and revisions. Beside her, there was a stack of examination papers which all read, "100/100" or "Full marks! Congratulations!" Her parents behind her were smiling and patting her gently on the head.

Behind, there was another mirror surrounded by broken glass. It showed a girl who threw a tantrum whenver she didn't get her way. She seemed like the rebellious type as well, having ripped her work to shreds and scattered them on the floor. She was the classic "Bad girl" and was the leader of a gang. She was known to many and feared by all.

There was nothing behind that mirror. None of the three girls I saw was me. That much I know. I felt the anger of having wasted precious time and not gaining anything build up within me as I clenched my fist and punched the mirror. Glass shards dug into my hand, leaving a pool of blood on the floor. I winced at the pain. As the mirror cracked, I remember the story of Bloody Mary that someone told me. "If you face a cracked mirror and say 'Bloody Mary' thrice, Bloody Mary will come out from it and kill you. You have to say it with your voice increasing each time, though." I think my mind went black then. When I came to, I had finished shouting the last "Bloody Mary."

A ghost-like figure emerged from the now blood red mirror. I only had time to scream and start running before I felt it chase me. As I reached the exit, or at least what I assumed was the exit, it closed, leaving me to face the ghost that I had summoned. It advances slowly, as if knowing I have no chance of escaping. Closer. Closer. Closer… I cannot do anything but see the blood-stained girl head for me.

She reaches for my neck. I hear a frantic scream. I think it was mine.

She grips my neck.

I felt weak. Helpless. Worthless. I take a last look at the world around me before I am plunged into darkness.

I was dead, I was sure of it, yet I was still there. There in the empty darkness. Why? "Why?" I cried out, the weight of my missing identity as heavy as my heart. My vow. I was alive, though I was dead. Maybe I was somewhere in the middle.

Has it been hours? Days? Years? That is another thing I do not know besides my identity. How long would I be stuck in this black world? Yet another thing I do not know. I settle for walking, even though I know it won't be of any use.

Walking…walking….walking… The scene hasn't changed one bit. All hope has beed drained from my soul as I walk. All of a sudden, I stepped on something. My left foot felt wet.

I looked down. The bottom of my foot was entirely red. Blood. There was a shard of glass, I think that was what I had stepped on. I was about to fling it away when I caught sight of my reflection. My reflection?

It showed a girl. A lonely girl whom everyone avoids. I could tell that from her face. Her left eye showed sadness, her right eye showed fear. Fear of not being accepted. Half her mouth was smiling, a fake smile. The other half was smirking. One hand was on her hip. The other, waving. Words were written all around her, the same word each time. "Lie"

I am a lie. I felt free. I could feel my hands disappearing.

And I died with a smile on my face.