☯(TACARA GORAVICH)[D2][RESUBMISSION]☯

Most people, when they look in the mirror, see some hideous figure staring back at them, well that’s what they say. When I look in the mirror I see something close to what people described to be my mother. People say that they can see a resemblance… I spend hours and hours wandering what the woman who gave birth to me looks like, but I am never, never able to form an image. The person I see is fuzzy, and distort, having no shape. Just an empty shell in my imagination. I try to see her, wanting to know,desperate to know. Was she beautiful? Or was she ugly?

The mirror in front of me is covered in dust, and has a crack that runs down the center, cutting the image in its reflection in half. The girl in the flection has long blonde hair, running down her back, like and endless curtain. It is golden, and lushes, healthy and strong. Yeah I wish… the hair is see is long, but it is dry and un-kept, Like straw. The reflection brushes its hand through the long hair, trying to clear it from knot and tangles. The fingers move through the hair, clearing the knots, untangling the straw, but as usual, it still does not have a healthy glow. Slowly the hand in the reflection, drops.

My eyes used to be as blue as the sky on a clear sunny day, bright and cheerful. Happy and keen. But now they are washed out, dull. Lifeless. I’m not sure why… I know I cry myself to sleep at night, But could that really be the reason that my eyes no longer hold the life that they used to? I stare into the eyes of the refection, they hold so much emotion, so much loneliness, I cringe away, breaking out eyes contact. The eyes, they did not look like they belonged. They looked like those of what you would see on a limp body. Glazed over, lifeless.

My eyes travel down the body of the reflection, observing the image in the mirror. It wasn’t an healthy sight. The girl was thin, bones visible under the thin clothing that she wore, it hang from her, like clothes on a coat hanger. Even though her limbs were thin, muscles welled beneath the skin, lean and long. They spread out over her legs, giving them some shape, and over her arms, showing that she wasn’t as weak as she seemed. But muscles don’t just appear overnight. They symbolised her life of theft. She stole things. It was as simple as that. She had been doing for so long now, that she even had the body to prove it.

Normal… What is normal? I can’t say that I am normal, as I don’t even know the definition of normal. Is marina normal? Lyana? Hopper? Or Jammar? or even Kluas? Is he normal? Are any of us normal? I ask myself this question every day, pondering with answers that don’t even make sense, but I still ask. I’m not sure why, but I crave to know what normal is. I have a desire to know… But I guess if people did know the definition, that I wouldn’t fit the words. After all how can someone who fears the weirdest things be normal?

I stare at the reflection in the mirror, but now I don’t not see the same image, the crack down the center of the body has divided the image, giving the reflection a new look. On one side there is this shy girl. This girl who is scared to speak up in what she believes in. She seems to sit in the corner, by herself. She doesn’t say much; words do not escape her lips. her eyes… They stare ahead into the distance, but there is nothing there, it is as though she is lost in this world, this world where she is free. Where she has no fears. In this world that is hers and hers alone.

Fear spreads throughout her. But what is she scared of? People say it is impossible to fear fear its self, and I agree wholly. This girl in the mirror doesn’t fear fear its self, she fears small things. Things like spiders. Spiders… just by thinking the word, fears slides into my body. The reflection fears being alone, but yet she hides from people. Its scared of being alone… The girl in the image fears many things. She is a wimp. She will run as soon as trouble rounds the corner. If she believes that she might cause harm to herself when doing something, she will leave, like a fly going after a steak. She is gone, and you are left staring at nothing, nothing but thin air.

But the image isn’t insane. Just scared. Alone. She doesn’t seem to know who to run to, who to trust. scared… Alone…

The other side reflects a totally different side of the of the girl. On this side of the crack, the girl is surrounded by small shinny objects, they surround her. She is happy. She smiles at them, like they are the best thing to have happened to her in a long time. But her eyes. They are hungry, they gaze over the items, greedily, and it is obvious that she craves more. This girl in this image has an obsession. She desires to have these little objects. She craves to have them all. It is unstoppable, she is addicted. She needs them. Her eyes hungry, her stance protective.

Ever since I was a little girl I wandered what it would be like to fly. To fly away and never return. To live on my own, to have a new life… To be safe to be with people who understood me. People at home they stare at me funny, they know me for being the girl who ran away. Or for being the hoarder girl. They think I’m crazy, but then they meet my sister… Marina… she takes the focus off me for a while… but they always remember me, after all, gossip is gossip… My family looks at me, and even though I know the love me in some twisted way, as though I am a bit off my tarts. But really all I need is someone to understand me and what is going on in my head... is that really too much to ask for?

When I was little I would climb the largest tree in our backyard. I would sit up there for hours, feeling the wind on my ace, meant so much to me. To be able to have a place where I could let my mind roam, meant so much to me. I loved that tree. It was the key to unlock my gloom. I found happiness there; it was as if almost the tree understood how I felt… Crazy right? I mean after all it was just a tree….

Then it all came crashing down, my hope shattered…

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Bang! crash! bang! Wind howled outside, smashing against the windows, against the house that I sheltered in. I feared storms. I fear the way they raged like an angry bull across the district. Their destructive winds, damaging anything in its path. I feared what a storm may cause, would it injure hurt, maim, the ones that I loved, that I cared about? The winds raged outside the house, picking up speed, thundering down the empty streets of district 3. I hid under my bed, dust surrounding me, filling my lungs. My body shaking, shaking from fear. Fear crept through my lips, stiffening them, then it reached my mind, planting evil terrifying thoughts. I scream silently, my mouth open, but no sound.

About half an hour later the winds slowed down, calming. Rain pattered gentle against the ground, making small soothing sound. My breathes cam in big gulps, as I tried to get oxygen into my lungs. Finally being able to breathe again, I slide out from under my bed and into the damp light of my bedroom. I stand absolutely still, fear still curled up inside me.

Slowly without making a sound, I clamber over to my window, and peek outside. I freeze. My limbs going stiff No! No! NO! I scream in pain, silently to myself. My eyes scan the area outside. no…..

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My only sense of happiness was destroyed that day. The only thing that I believed to understand me, was gone…

I Know it had been a silly thing to get distressed about. But… But I had loved that tree and the things it had offered me. Happiness. Freedom.

Before Klaus one the games