Short Fiction

The Reflections of My Reflection

Sunday Short FictionThe only way I could get her attention was to change something. Change was rather difficult to do on my side but I was frustrated and desperate. She just wasn’t seeing me anymore. Though she would stare right at me, every single day, she would not SEE.

So I cut my hair off and dyed it a brilliant red. Sure enough, that worked.

The next morning she woke up, groggily walked to the bathroom, flipped on the light switch and immediately exclaimed, “Oh wow!”

“Do you see me now?” I asked her. She nodded back, eyes wide, and then turned her head side to side. Being her reflection, I followed suit so that she could see the total transformation. I looked back at her, always SEEING her, and smiled because yes, the haircut was cute and the color was awesome. She had been fading into herself and needed a swift kick in the ass.

This was the only way, I, her reflection, could kick her.

The effect on her was instant. I could tell she already felt more confident in herself, more alive. It was a continuous battle to be a reflection, when the purpose of my existence was only to be seen. When she can no longer see me clearly, her spirit will start to fade. I didn’t know what would happen with other reflections when their mirror image fades totally away. I honestly did not want to think of what becomes of them.

As she ran a hand through her new hair, I did the same with joy.

She left me standing there at the mirror as she showered and dressed. Quickly she came back with a very cute skirt and top on. I haven’t seen her wear that in ages. The red hair stood up in towel-dried randomness and her face was plain. Together we were going to put on make-up and create a new style today. This was bonding time, her and me.

She smiled at me and I smiled back. I didn’t want her to fade on me ever again.

If I had to get a tattoo next time to get her attention, I would.

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