If you really know who I am thing you probably know who the girl is in this story. Even if you don't know me well, your'll probably still be able to tell. I would appreciate reviews on this one telling me what you think. I'm basically pouring my heart out, and that's the only thing I'm asking for.

True Image

I sit here. On my bed, reading. Another romance novel of course. A life I can never hope to live. I'll never be as beautiful as Snow White, I'll never meet a handsome prince like in Cinderella, and I'm not as kind as Beauty. And of course I'll never have a prince who will ride up on his white stallion to save me. Not that I need saving, mind you. At least I don't think so. But maybe I do. I don't know anymore. Everything is so blurry to me now.

Everywhere I turn a black cloud of misery hangs over me like a small rain cloud. Maybe that's why I'm always so cold. No matter what I do, I can never warm myself. I have felt warmth only once in my life. When I was being held by the one I loved. I felt warm, content, and loved. But I feel nothing now. Wait.. no that's a lie. I do feel. I feel lonely, confused and hurt. I've learned that it's not good to lie to yourself, so I always speak the truth. To myself anyway. Telling the truth to another is a different story.

I've told part of my story to another. But it didn't make a difference. I still feel helpless, I still feel like no one understands me. No one really knows the real me. The one behind all the ice. I'm not pretty like some people think I am. To be pretty you have to be pretty on the inside. And believe me, I'm not. I steal, lie and cheat. I pull away from physical contact, even though I yearn for it. I am constantly crying, though you cannot see the tears. And I don't even believe in the "Almighty God". So it's not like I have anyone to fall back on.

People come to me for advice, I almost want to laugh in their faces since I can not even begin to help myself none the lone someone else. Though it does take my unintelligent mind of my problems for a nano second.

I stand up from my bed that holds no comfort for me and walk to the full length mirror in my room.

Short auburn hair lies flat against my skull, hazel eyes red and puffy from hours of crying, a small crease in my forehead from frowning too much, my lips cracked and peeling from one to many licks, and my eyes have lost their shine. My body is tall and gangly, my hip bones jut out sickenly, and I am as flat as "an iron board" (so I have heard).

A shadow falls over me, I glance back to see my long time friend and new boyfriend walk over to me. He places his arms around my tiny waist and rests his head on my bony shoulder. We both turn to the mirror. He a blinding light, while I am only his shadow.

"What do you see" He glances at me then to my reflection. "You." I shake my head and stare at my reflection. My eyes are no longer puffy, my hair is no longer flat, and my eyes shine with happiness. I blink, and the reflection turns back into what I had seen only seconds ago. No, I think. You are wrong. You do not truly see me, but rather what you want to see. You, along with everyone else. I sigh, and lean my oily head back against his smooth shoulder. You will never see the real me. No one will.