The Mirror Cracks...

The mirror would crack, she thought;
The image would turn into oblivion,
Or worse, the reflection would suffer demise in transition.

Seven years passed.
Sadly, with the years, the grief did not;
Nor did the facts ever faced changes.

The proceeding begins every day in an almost mechanical fashion.
The same her.
The same mirror.
The same saline drops moistening her acid dry face.
The same sigh after the flashback.
The death of Hope still aches somehow though.

As the pale yellow sunlight illuminates the patch work and shades on her face,
The reality descends as the dusk of dawn to wash away the grace.
Still staring at the mirror with bloodshot eyes,
Posts, letters and messages all talking about courage, intrepidity and heroism, silently embracing dust as they lie.

The present fades.
The past recalling session ascends.
A normal day,
Down the path which led to the temple of learning,
Some books, few friends and many jokes on the way.

Suddenly normal is left behind,
Roar of the engine fills the background.

Moments later,
Bandages, bruises and pain remains as residue.

“Pain has different forms” she said
“Sometimes it manifests in just being alive and looking at yourself in the mirror”
Who ever thought seeing your reflection would be more than just seeing?

Unknown, unheard and unfelt.
She asks “Do you know that feeling where no answer makes sense,
Where the shreds of glass stick to your heart like pieces of dart,
Where logic fails to tell you the reason behind your pain,
Where numbness goes unexplained,
The severed but settled facts of the past,
Slap you hard in the face?”

And all the days she thought she moved on laughing, giggling and smiling
Was a rustic chimera of the conscious?
What went wrong?
Why her?

Rationality never mated with irrationality so well before,
And the proceeding, moves towards its end course,
When the tears have crystalized well enough to hurt,
When the throat has choked enough, to finally make water the most important option,
When the ringing phone could no longer be ignored.

She rises,
Locks in all the unanswered questions in her heart.
Wipes the tears, gulps down a sip, wears a smile;
As the most important defence against any unwanted sympathy.

And as she walks down that road,
The world may crown her with a knighthood,
But the engine still roars loud enough to make her still Human.