Another look in the Mirror

I was at the hospital over the weekend to visit a friend, and looked up at what I thought was a window to another room but it was actually a mirror. These are my thoughts...

I see her. There she sits: alone, afraid, lost. On her face is an etching of pain, so overwhelming as it cascades in consistent waves. The pressure builds, intensity ever increasing. She yearns for relief--for someone or something to ease the tension. Her throat is worn raw, burned by the desire to scream, to pour forth her anguish upon the unfeeling world. She trembles, the horror all the more intense by her silence, and I watch. How can no one see her? In the silence, I hear the pain that’s locked deep inside. My cold, stony heart is forced to sympathize with another…a sister soul in the struggle with suppressed emotions. Any yet…still no one comes to her aid. The people drift along, as soulless as the wind that drives the oceans. I ache to be different, to run to her side.  To be that one person of comfort, the spark of kindness in a world of blackest night. I look around, finding no other help on the way. It’s time for someone to stand for what’s right. I rise from my chair…and promptly fall. Voices call out to me, strangers without faces rush to my side. I try to tell them of the lonely girl more in need than I am. But then…that’s when it hits me. The creeping, sickly, icy cold tingling that crawls up my spine, the stab of sudden acknowledgement. There is no other girl. That was merely…my reflection.

Author's Note

Thoughts and opinions welcome! Helpful advice as well...