I am standing in front of the mirror, a dark shadow cast against my face. I do not recognise that face and bruises trail up my arms and neck.
Heavy tears burn my cheeks, taking my mascara along the paths that blemish my black dress invisibly
Daffodils have lost their charm and the bird chirps echo like music from a horror movie. I press the ‘pause’ button on my life.
In the mirror beyond me, as silent as an apparition, a little girl with eyes as sad as mine appears. Her voice comes forth in subtle symphonies. Those eyes pierce through me. My destiny. My legacy. My heart.
‘You look beautiful mummy, even when you are crying, but you always look more beautiful when you are not crying.’ She says, but I hear ‘get a grip mum, for our sake’.
A kiss, a cuddle, a smile – off she goes. Her work is done. She leaves me different.
I slip out of the black dress and wear in its stead a bright red one. I take off the scarf around my neck and wipe off the make up from my face because at that moment, I cannot feel any more beautiful.
Daffodils are pretty once more and the bird chirps a soulful hymn that reminds me of my worth.
‘You can give me bruises but my soul remains untarnished. You have abused your welcome and lost all rights to my emotions. The ‘indelible’ heartprints you left have been wiped off by special arrangement. Where I once saw a huge ugly monster, now stands a laughable teddy bear, except…you are not cute. You have lost your viciousness, your control, your ability to make me cower before you’
I put my crown back on and take my position on my throne.
‘Henceforth I tell me what to do! I will continue to drown your flames. Bring on a forest fire; it will meet a tsunami
‘I DO NOT NEED PERMISSION TO BE ME!’
Before the mirror, I find a smile. She whispers:
As you journey your way through life, may your choice to laugh or cry….to action or sigh be born purely of the whispers of your soul. Your instinct. Your prayer. Your strength and love and hope – you’ll cope. Whatever the weather, storm or shine, before the world’s eyes, you wear that red dress and fly to brave new skies! It’s your picture; paint it fuchsia should you wish. Create the path, a success bath, be unshakable, be true, and unleash you!
I press the ‘play’ button as I turn and walk away. The lady in the mirror applauds. *:)*