The Girl In The Mirror
by Hecate

There's a girl in the mirror.

She has my eyes. Dark brown and infinite. I can see strength in them, a raw, unformed strength that is rooted somewhere deep inside of her. They're so clear, like they have never seen blood and destruction and death. Fear has no place in them.

She has my mouth and my lips, formed to a sure smile now, a happy smile. It looks like it could never fade, could never go wry. Like they never formed a scream for help.

She has my face. So young and so open. No traces of fear or pain, no lines life could have left behind. Still open to the world, still ready to live and to explore.

She has my body. Muscles under skin, skin stretching over bones, bones holding up a body made for dancing, made for fighting. Made for living.

I watch her and she watches me, mimicking every move I do. I smile and so does she, pink lips turning her face into a shining sun. I dance around and watch her, her movements in tune with mine, graceful and fluid. My dancing turns into fighting practise, trying out what Buffy showed me. And her body turns into a fighting machine in the mirror, her movements precise and probably even deadly. She kicks and throws shadow punches, punches that could hurt everything besides the shadows she's fighting.

I stop and step closer to the mirror. I watch her, her breast moving rapidly, pushing air in and out. Her body is strained and exhausted but her eyes are the same like before. Strong and determined.

She's ready for whatever comes her way.

I wish I could believe that she was me. But she's just the girl in the mirror and a mirror always shows the things the other way around.


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