She stares, her eyes bloodshot, hair knotted, and cheek bruised. She watches eye to eye, but sees only what she is told, and hears only what she can within her home. Her home. What is her home? Behind the glass, trapped, unable to escape her own thoughts, torments, fears. She stares eyes widen, fingers quiver, and head drops. Her brown, knotted, curly hair runs messily down her back. Her old t-shirt sags off her frail, weak body, and she searches further into the glass. Pacing back and forth, she mumbles, she cries, she yells. Her hands run across her face. She stares. The door behind her opens and perhaps one could hear a mouse scurry by.


Grace! What are you doing, he yells as her face turns from the glass, your need to be out here, your fiancé is waiting.



Father, she crys, I don’t love him, surly you understand! See what he has done to me! See what he has done! She turns to reveal the purlish yellow markings.


When did this happen? How have you not told me! The man stares himself down in the glass.



Tears flow from his eyes, cheeks redden, and hands turn to fists. How could he have not known this? He had her in his house, sitting behind the window, moping about. What type of father…what type of father would do that? He sunk to his knees.


Father calm yourself. We can fix this. We can make it right. I love you still, but I must be me, she says as a weight lifts off her shoulders.


The man runs out stopping only once to glance back.


She stares, her eyes bloodshot, hair knotted, and cheek bruised. She watches eye to eye, but sees only what she is told, and hears only what she can within her home. Her home. What is her home? Behind the glass, trapped, unable to escape her own thoughts, torments, fears. She stares eyes widen, fingers quiver, and head drops. Her brown, knotted, curly hair runs messily down her back. Her old t-shirt sags off her frail, weak body, and she searches further into the glass. Pacing back and forth, she mumbles, she cries, she yells. Her hands run across her face. She stares.

She holds a brush in her hand. Smile crossed her faces and she brushes her hair and makes herself look presentable. Her shoulders relax and her heart warms. She raises the brush above her head. The mirror shatters.