Once upon a time, there was a queen who was obsessed with her beauty. Mirrors adorned each room in her large estate, for she loved nothing more than to gaze upon her own reflection—except, perhaps, to have other people gaze upon her glorious visage. The queen commissioned portraits to be painted of her and dispersed amongst the land. Indeed, she made it illegal for any building to be erected without a copy of her likeness within. The country’s wealth was squandered on fine jewels, new dresses, and makeup all for her. The magical creatures in the land were hunted en masse for her to bathe in their blood merely upon the suggestion that it would slow the signs of aging. The possible extinction of the unicorn was a small price to pay to keep blemishes and wrinkles from Her Majesty’s flawless skin.
But no matter how extravagant her wigs, how many miles of lace she owned, or how many balls she hosted in her own honor, it was never enough. The queen lived in constant terror of growing old, of becoming fat, or of wearing the same dress to more than one event.
Her courtiers were sent to find the most powerful witch in the land in order to craft for her an enchanted mirror, one that would make a person grow more lovely every time they looked into it. The witch was found and she agreed, of course, for none could say no to royalty. But the witch, unbeknownst to the queen, was not in the habit of giving people what they wanted. She had grown into her power because she had accepted that her magic could only provide a person with things that they need, regardless of what they thought they desired.
The mirror was finished even faster than the two weeks that the queen had granted the witch, and it was flawless. The edges of the mirror were covered in intricate carvings that would have taken a master craftsman years to complete. “All the better to frame Her Majesty’s lovely face,” the witch had said when asked about it.
In a fit of excitement, the queen canceled all of her balls for the next week with the sole intention of looking upon herself, the most beautiful queen in the land, in this, the most beautiful mirror. Each day she would only become better until her beauty would be beyond that of any other living being; it would rival the goddess herself.
After having the mirror delivered to her bedchamber, the queen ushered everybody out, even her maidservants and ladies-in-waiting. She told them that she wanted to be alone to witness this, but really she didn’t want to share the power of the mirror with those around her.
Once the room was finally clear and the curtains were drawn, the queen had her chance with the mirror. But when she looked into it, she beheld a beast. The room was reflected in perfect detail, but instead of seeing herself, she saw a humanoid figure of black tar with tendrils of sticky darkness clinging to her mouth, eyes, and nose. Putrid green welts and boils grew along her arms and legs and soiled the fine silk of the dress that she wore. Her hair was a stringy, matted mess of straw that looked worse even than what they mucked out of the stables. As she looked, the filth covering her grew until she couldn’t even recognize the shape of her body under the monster.
Screaming in rage, the queen tore at the edges of the gilt mirror, but only managed to tear her fingernails. She pushed against the glass surface, hoping to shatter it, but she was not strong enough. Her reflection captured her attention and she was unable to look away. At a loss of what else to do, she pulled the mirror down, hoping to place it flat against the floor so it would stop its torture. She grabbed and pulled, but being unable to look away and therefore unable to move away, the heavy mirror fell on top of her. The queen’s ornate crystal corset shattered under the impact of the mirror and stabbed her through her heart.
The ladies-in-waiting were terrified by the screaming and crashing that they had heard inside, but they had been instructed not to enter. They knew the queen to be cruel and punishing, and none wanted to be locked in the cellar without food for disobeying a direct order. By the time they gained enough courage to check on her, the queen was surrounded by a pool of her own blood, her body grown cold. The girls were horrified, of course, if not a bit relieved. One had been curious enough to go and see that there was writing on the back of the mirror. “I show not what you love to see, but how those who love see you.”
The mirror, like all cursed objects, slowly faded from view after the intended recipient no longer had need of it. Nobody really knew where the cursed items went, although most assumed they either returned to the witch who made them or they faded from existence.
This was going to be impossible. Waves of anger and confusion swept through Lisa as she stood to leave.
“Self-love,” she muttered under her breath as she exited the sad, beige office, kicking the door closed behind her. What did that even mean, anyway? Who in their right mind walked around thinking about how much they loved themselves? That sounded a bit too much like Narcissus, if she were being honest with herself, and surely he couldn’t be considered mentally well. Hadn’t he died from looking at his reflection too much? Although, truth be told, Lisa didn’t know the first thing about mental health. Which was why she was seeing the damned therapist in the first place.
He had told her that the first step to recovery was to love herself. That was the first step, he had said, like it was going to be just so easy. There were a hundred steps she’d have to take to even get to this one first step that he was asking for, and none of it seemed doable. When Lisa had questioned, he had replied that they’d spend the next few sessions going over different ways that she could practice self-love. But she couldn’t afford that many sessions just for the first step. The first step of how many? There was too much unknown, too much room for failure.
It made Lisa want to give up before she had started. She was an over-achiever and always had been, but that desire to be perfect often kept her from trying when things were too difficult or not defined well enough. She needed concrete plans of action, step-by-step guides, and she told her therapist that. He thought a moment before assigning her homework. Homework was good, it was familiar and safe. He said that her first assignment was to put mirrors back in her house in order to learn to love herself. Even though she didn’t think it was possible to do the second part, she went out to buy a mirror and complete her homework. She didn’t want to fail therapy, after all.
Truthfully, she had been mortified when he asked what she thought of when she saw her reflection and she had to tell him that she didn’t see it. Lisa hadn’t told anybody about that part of her; of how bad things had become. She hadn’t let anybody over to her house in years because she was so ashamed. The only way she had come up with to cope with her reflection was to simply erase it. No reflective surfaces in the house at all, ever. None in her cubicle at work, either. She had become a master of knowing what might show a reflection and averting her eyes.
And now she had to bring them back into her life, to her home. Well, not all of them. He had said “a mirror.” One. She could still get an A in therapy if she had the one mirror, right? Maybe not an A as she knew she wouldn’t be able to complete the second part and love the way she looked in it. She could get a B, then. The thought stung a bit. She didn’t like failure. But maybe accepting that she might have to get a B in therapy would be a first step towards acceptance and self-love? And that acceptance would mean an A! Much better. Off to go buy a mirror then, Lisa thought to herself, getting into her car and finally leaving the office.
It was as if somebody had purged an eighteenth century castle of everything that was of any value and thrown it all haphazardly into this one room before calling it a thrift store. There was a set of 3 goblets, all carved from stone, on the same shelf as a blue perfume bottle and a crystal decanter. Looking closely, the shelf was part of an intricately welded bookcase that was being used to hold as many bits and bobs as could be crammed onto it. There was a price tag on the bookcase, although Lisa had no idea where the stuff resting on it would go if it were to be sold.
But she wasn’t here for any of the various odds and ends. Ducking underneath a hanging tapestry, Lisa made her way to the back of the room. She needed a mirror. The side walls were hung with paintings of every style and from every century, some prints but most originals, with the price tag to match. While the front of the store had what looked like hundreds of shelves strewn up on the wall, the back wall of the store was where she had avoided for the last four years. It had mirrors, arranged by a Tetris master, to cover the entire surface. Lisa had no idea what color the wall was painted, or even if it was painted, because the entire wall reflected the rest of the store back at itself.
Carefully averting her eyes, she trudged to the back of the store. An employee came up and asked if she needed assistance, and Lisa was simply thankful to have something to turn her gaze to that wasn’t a reflection. The woman was wearing an outfit that was as eclectic as the store, with what looked like 3 different layers of skirts and a bright orange wrap struggling to contain her fiery hair.
“I need a mirror,” Lisa said.
“Well you’re in the right place! You probably need a moment to look at them—why don’t you call me when you’re ready for me to get one down for you?” The employee’s voice was chirpy, overly helpful in the way that only a customer service representative could be.
“Actually,” Lisa hedged, “Can you pick one for me? I don’t care which, I just need a mirror.”
The woman didn’t balk at the odd request, but instead looked thoughtful.
“I have just the mirror for you,” she said, before turning and wending her way towards the curtain that hung beneath an EMPLOYEES ONLY sign. Lisa stood, rooted to the spot, waiting for the woman to return with a step-ladder or something to bring a mirror down. She really didn’t want to be a bother, and had meant for the woman to grab the easiest mirror. Turning back towards the oddities in the shop, Lisa wondered what she was supposed to do while waiting. She hated awkward social interactions like this. Maybe she could browse to pass the time?
“Are you coming?”
Lisa jumped, fumbling to keep hold of the perfume bottle she had picked up. It was ancient, the kind with the puff ball that sprayed the perfume out, so it definitely wasn’t something she could afford to drop. After gingerly setting the bottle down, she looked up at the woman waiting, somewhat impatiently, behind the partially pulled back curtain that she had disappeared behind.
“Umm, yes, of course!” Lisa said, before making her way to the employee’s section, careful not to bump into anything. There were some expensive pieces in the store displayed on shelves right next to knick-knacks being sold for less than a dollar. No rhyme or reason to the place.
“This is the one,” the employee said, once Lisa had finally arrived to the small, curtained-off back room.
She paused to take in the mirror before her. It was beautiful and huge. An oval that had intricate carvings surrounding it, the surface of the mirror shimmered, as if it were warped, but when she looked at the reflection of the curtain in the mirror, it was perfect. An ethereal light seemed to emit from it, but Lisa shook her head and reminded herself that couldn’t be possible. It was probably from the fluorescent lighting; it always made things look a little weird. Still, it was large and ornate and even if all of the carvings were made of foam or something, it was still obviously out of her price range.
“Oh,” she said, struggling to get the words out, “it’s lovely, but I don’t think it’s the one for me.”
“Nonsense,” said the employee, and went to pick it up.
“No really,” Lisa tried to add a forceful edge to her voice, “I was looking for something a bit simpler.”
“This one will match your décor perfectly.” The woman had to grunt the words out, straining under the weight of the mirror that she had already picked up. Lisa wondered how the woman could possibly know what her décor looked like, but still moved to help her. She hated to see people struggling and was always willing to offer help.
“Honestly,” she tried again while lifting half of the mirror, “I think this is out of my price range.”
Lisa didn’t like talking about money, but she needed to let the very determined employee know that this was an impossible purchase for her.
“It’s free.”
Lisa almost dropped the mirror, but once again luck was on her side and she caught her half before anything fell or anybody was injured.
“Free?”
“Yes, of course. Surely you can afford free?”
Flabbergasted, she didn’t respond and simply helped the woman to the front of the store. Together, they placed the mirror on the counter, next to the register.
“All free purchases come with a book, too,” the woman said, pulling a small paperback from a stack under the counter. “Would you like me to wrap that for you?”
Lisa glanced at the huge mirror before responding, “No, thank you, I’ll just put it in my car.” She hesitated, not wanting to pass up on such a great offer, but also feeling very uncomfortable with the entire ordeal. “Are you sure you don’t need me to pay? I can make a donation.”
“Nonsense, nonsense!” the lady replied, making shooing motions with her hands. “It’s cursed anyway, I need to get rid of it. And it’s perfect for you, Lisa.”
Lisa blinked. She didn’t recall telling the woman her name, although she must have. And cursed? She opened her mouth to ask for some sort of clarification when a chime sounded from the back room.
“Oh would you look at that, shop’s closed! Best be on your way, dearie, don’t forget the book! I’ve got to lock the doors.”
Before she had a chance to respond, Lisa found herself ushered out of the shop, book in hand, the employee somehow heaving the mirror down from the counter and out the door all by herself. Then the doors snapped closed and with a click they were locked. Lisa turned around to wave, but a curtain was promptly drawn, blocking the view inside.
She looked down at her phone. The time read 2:26 PM. What an odd time to close she thought before turning her attention towards putting her new mirror in her car.
Lisa got back to her apartment and lugged the ridiculously heavy mirror up the stairs, careful to ensure that the weight of it was always below her. If it tilted too far, she was worried she’d be squished. Disastrous, especially considering the amount of medical debt she was already in for her brief hospital stay and now therapy.
After about an hour, and a fair amount of heaving, the mirror was up to her apartment. It was still covered, and facing away from her for good measure, so she hadn’t seen herself yet. She would need to eventually, but could only manage one thing at a time. Mirrors didn’t belong in the kitchen, she didn’t want to be faced with herself while deciding what to eat or going over her meal plan. It couldn’t go in her bedroom. As a child, Lisa had recurring nightmares that shadows came out of the mirrors to snatch her away and bring them back to their shadow realm. While she hadn’t had one of those dreams in years, she didn’t want to tempt fate. That left the living room or the bathroom. While the bathroom might seem like the obvious choice, she already had to turn off the lights so that she didn’t need to see herself in the shower. Just the thought of being faced with a reflection of herself without any clothes on was more than she could stomach. So that left the living room. Which was really more of a hallway, office, dining room, and all-in-one living/storage area. It was a small apartment.
There was a shelf full of mostly-dead plants that was easy enough to clear. Plants were supposed to be good for your mental health, everybody said so, but Lisa could never keep them alive. So she bought them in batches and watched them slowly wither while she felt disappointed in herself for not being able to care for them, over and over again. The mirror couldn’t be much worse than that, right?
After taking the plants down, she found that the shelf was held up by two brackets that had been securely installed into the wall. Looking at the mirror, the hooks on the back of it looked like they would fit on the brackets perfectly. Lisa dug around in her craft supplies that she kept by the couch until she found a crumpled tape measure and used it to check—yup, perfect fit. That was convenient! It was almost as if she had an author somewhere writing out her life, desperately wanting her to find some small amount of happiness.
Lisa got a step ladder and carefully placed the mirror on the wall. Once she was sure it was set and wouldn’t fall over, Lisa backed up to check that it was straight. Although she didn’t plan to let herself see the reflection, her eyes strayed to the glossy surface. Something was swirling there, pulling her gaze to the center of the mirror. Her heart thudded in her chest and fear gripped her, holding her in place, but what she saw wasn’t a reflection of herself. It couldn’t be. Instead, she saw a shadowy figure, the edges of her blurred as if she weren’t quite real. Lisa lifted her right hand and the reflection lifted her left. Her skin looked pale and grey, with sprawling lines coming out of the shadows.
The mirror was defective! That explained why it was free, but Lisa cursed herself for not looking into the glass earlier. She had spent so much time struggling to fit the mirror into her car and lugging it up the stairs and placing it on the wall, all for it to not even show her reflection!
Through her frustration though, Lisa realized that she had still done it. She had brought a mirror into her home. She had completed the first step, and she felt a stirring of happiness or maybe pride. It was difficult to place an emotion that she hadn’t felt for so long. Now what to do with the shelf that was leftover?
It was the next day and David was in her living room.
“Are you sure you don’t want this?” he asked, looking at the shelf and all of the pots that Lisa had emptied.
“Positive,” she replied. “There’s no room!”
David looked around her apartment. It was the first time he had ever been here, even though he was, or had been, her best friend since college. They hadn’t spoken much in the past few months, although he had tried to reach out again after he heard about her hospital stay. It had been uncomfortable, texting him. The last 7 messages that were visible were all from him, asking how she was or when she’d be up for going out. The last time she had sent a message, 8 weeks ago, it had simply been to respond “lol” to a joke that he had sent after 5 other ignored messages. Still, within a few minutes of her asking if he wanted to come over to see a shelf for his plants, he had responded yes! I’d love to!
It was a better response than she had hoped for. She was told in the hospital that she’d need to rebuild a healthy support system, but she’d honestly thought that it would be a bit more work. It was why she had bribed David over with the plant pots; he might be more likely to forgive her with an apology gift. She had assumed he’d stop by, take them, and leave without wanting to see her. Yet, here he was, just happy to have an invite.
There had been some awkward pauses when he first asked to come in for a bit, but she kept directing their conversation to the empty plant pots. David had always loved plants. Last time that she had been, his apartment had looked more like a jungle than a rental.
“Where were they before?” David asked. It took her a minute to remember what he was talking about.
“Over there.”
She gestured vaguely to the broken mirror, hoping he wouldn’t pay too much attention to it. But he, too, seemed drawn in by the ornately carved edges.
“Wow, I can see why you needed to make space for this. It’s beautiful.”
He walked up to it, and traced his fingers along the carved edges of the mirror. She looked over at him, and saw that she could see him reflected perfectly in the mirror. The entire room looked exactly how it was supposed to! Maybe it wasn’t broken after all. Still, Lisa stayed at the edge of the mirror, out of range to view her own reflection, despite the draw she felt to it.
“Thanks,” she replied. “It was free!”
David was shocked and full of questions, so she told him the story of how she had obtained it—leaving out the part about how she was in therapy now and it was her therapist who told her that she had to buy it.
“And then I lugged it completely up the stairs,” she finished, her cheeks flushing. This was the most she had said to anybody in ages. But David didn’t seem angry at her, or bored with her rambling, or ashamed of being near her, or any of the things that she had worried about. Instead, he looked pleased.
“Who knew the place down on second would have such amazing staff? I wonder if they’ll be able to get me a free mirror,” he mused.
Lisa just laughed and David looked at her again.
“It’s good to see you, you know,” he said.
Her eyes dropped to the floor and her cheeks flushed.
“You’re not… you’re not upset?” she asked, unable to hold the question in.
David didn’t look surprised by the question, but he still took his time mulling over a reply. “No, I’m not,” he said, and then took in a breath. “I’ve missed you, and it hurt that you shut me out. But I know you were going through a rough patch.” Lisa’s eyes were still glued to the floor, and David stepped a bit closer to put his hand under her chin and lift it gently. She met his eyes again and he continued, his voice low. “I’m here now. You can trust me. Let me help you.”
It was all too much. Lisa’s entire face was burning and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream at him to leave or curl in on herself and cry or hug the friend that she had missed dearly. She pulled her head away and looked back down.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“It’s fine, it really is.” David reached a hand back out towards her, but stopped himself before it made contact and dropped it back by his side.
“Would you mind helping me down the stairs with these pots?” he asked instead.
Grateful for the distraction, Lisa bent over to grab a pot and started walking down the stairs, without another word.
Twenty minutes later and David had left after Lisa refused an invite to go out to lunch with him. But it was lunch time, so she looked at the list that the dietician had drafted for her and got to work pulling out the ingredients for one of the lunch options—a vegetable and hummus sandwich.
She sat in the living room to eat, as she always did. It was the only place there was space. And that was when the idea to put the mirror in the living room struck her as a very, very bad one. Lisa looked up, unable to stop herself, and first took in the food that was reflected in the plate on the table. It was too much. Her eyes then slid up to the figure sitting at the table, expecting to be disgusted, but was shocked. In her fear, she had all but forgotten the grey reflection that she had seen earlier. Now she remembered, but the figure wasn’t grey at all. Instead, she saw a stranger sitting on her couch. She had Lisa’s hair and was wearing the same outfit, but where Lisa was chunky and wrinkly and covered in flaws, this woman was shaped after Aphrodite herself. She was curvy and beautiful and sensual. She had a hint of glowy pink to her, as if a rosy light had been turned on from within her body. There was something enticing about the woman in the mirror, as if she had a secret that nobody else did, and it made Lisa want to get to know her. Despite being straight, Lisa found herself wanting the woman that she saw.
She waved her hand again, and the reflection waved back. Bizarre.
Still though, she picked up her sandwich and began to eat, staring intently into the mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to stomach thinking about herself eating, let alone watching herself. But she couldn’t seem to look away. The woman across from her ate in time with her, maintaining eye contact the entire time. No, not the woman across from me, Lisa thought to herself. My reflection.
Lisa still couldn’t think of the person in the mirror as herself. Obviously she wasn’t glowing. She hadn’t been grey, either. The mirror was clearly broken. But it was weird to think of another person in the mirror besides herself when she was all alone in her apartment. She needed to call it what it was—a reflection.
A month later, the second therapy session had gone better than the first. This time, her therapist was more acquainted with how to talk to her and was happy, but unsurprised, that Lisa had been able to complete her first homework assignment. He had a new one lined up for her—she needed to go out with her friends. It didn’t have to be anything extravagant, just an activity that she used to enjoy but had stopped doing in the last few years.
Lisa tensed up at first. She used to go out to dinner with them, until she stopped eating dinner altogether. She didn’t want her friends to have to see her like this. The therapist stopped her in her tracks and reminded her that she could go on an outing that didn’t revolve around food, she didn’t have to go so far out of her comfort zone so quickly. But for now, she needed to continue to rebuild her support system. Seeing one friend one time was not going to be good enough, even if she was responding to 80% of the texts she received now. Lisa had nodded. Even though she hated to admit it, she thought that was good advice.
While she was still in session, she called David and asked if he wanted to go out with her. He mentioned that Tam and Carly were going to see a movie that he desperately wanted to watch, but didn’t want to invite himself as a third wheel. Carly was a mutual friend of theirs and he was sure she’d love to see Lisa, so asked if she wanted to come and help even out the numbers. Lisa didn’t think it was a good idea. Surely they’d be upset that she had ignored them for so long. But with her therapist listening to her side of the phone conversation, Lisa felt as though she had no choice but to agree, despite her apprehension at seeing everybody. At least at a movie she wouldn’t have to talk much.
That was how Lisa had found herself, later that same night, in a theater sitting between David and Carly. Carly had her arm around Tam, next to her, and Lisa sighed at how cute they were. They had recently gotten engaged and Lisa couldn’t be happier for them. She remembered back before she had even met Tam, when Carly had confided in her that she might like her classmate, but didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship. Lisa had been the one who encouraged her to give it a shot, the worst Tam could say was no. Eventually, Tam had joined their group and Lisa thought of her as a friend as well.
Although seeing her friends look so happy brought her immense joy, Lisa was still glad for the dim lights and hoped that they blocked her own body from view. She had worn all black to go as unnoticed as possible and curled in on herself a bit between David and Carly, careful not to touch either of them and take up space that she didn’t deserve. Lisa had been so focused on herself and how much she must be annoying her friends with her overly loud breathing that she had not been able to pay much attention to the movie. It was a surprise when the theater erupted into laughter.
David turned to her and noticed that she wasn’t laughing along.
“Are you alright?” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.
Lisa just nodded, and then started shaking her head instead, her eyes threatening to fill with tears. Why was this happening now?! She was supposed to be having fun, out with friends. Friends that she barely deserved after ignoring them for so long. Friends that surely saw her as an annoyance—a burden.
She didn’t know what she was doing out here, why she thought this would be ok. Head still shaking, Lisa felt her breaths start to come in shallow gasps. She was trapped in this theater, stuck between people who likely hated her, making the situation worse for all of them.
David noticed her distress and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and escorting her out of the theater, into the overly bright but blessedly cool hallway. Lisa took a few deep, calming breaths, regaining control over her emotions while her friend just watched her, giving her space.
After a few minutes, she was able to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, finally looking up at David.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied.
“You wanted to see the movie and I— I—”
David shrugged with a noncommittal, “it’s alright. I can watch it later.”
“Do you want to go back in?” she asked, but before he could answer, Carly and Tam came bounding out of the room and right to them.
“All done making out?” Carly asked the couple suggestively.
Lisa blushed before stammering, “we weren’t making out. What would give you that idea?”
“Well this is a double date.” Carly glanced at David who was not-so-subtly attempting to make stop it motions with his hands. “Or maybe I was mistaken!”
There was a moment of silent awkwardness with the group.
“Do we want to go back in and finish the movie?” Lisa asked again, this time to the group at large.
“Nah,” said Carly. “I wasn’t enjoying it anyway. Should we go get something to eat?”
“No!” shouted Lisa, too quickly. The rest of the group looked at her, again with that awkward silence. Tam was the one to finally break it.
“Let’s go check out the rest of the mall!” she said, turning to leave the theater.
As the group followed her out, David walked up to Lisa and held her back.
“This doesn’t have to be a double date if you don’t want it to be,” he said. “I didn’t want to ask, but also didn’t want to assume, so I’ll just let you tell me what you want.”
Lisa stopped and blinked, taking that in. Does that mean he wanted it to be a date, or no? Did she want it to be a date? Lisa wasn’t sure what she wanted. She had thought that she had felt a spark between them a number of times over the years, but had never acted on it. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship. David was her best friend, if they broke up, she didn’t know what she would do. Or, at least, she hadn’t known. The last few months had shown her that she was resilient enough to get through a lot.
“I think,” she said slowly, feeling herself blush yet again, “if we’re on a date, I should know it’s one. And we should talk about it, because I don’t want to ruin our friendship. So this isn’t a double date.”
David looked crestfallen and Lisa immediately felt terrible. She hadn’t meant to upset him!
“What I meant was, this shouldn’t be our first date. But maybe something else should?”
David looked hopeful, but not quite sure of himself. “Do you really think a date would ruin our friendship?”
Lisa completely stopped walking, and David stood still next to her.
“What if we broke up?” she asked.
“You might be getting ahead of yourself there,” he responded with a chuckle that died when he looked at how serious her face was.
“I mean it, I can’t not have a best friend and if things don’t work it would be too weird,” said Lisa.
“Almost like you ignoring me for 8 months and then inviting me over like everything was normal?”
His words were said casually but it felt as though they punched her in the gut. The air was knocked out of her and her eyes pricked with tears.
“I’m so sor—” she started, but he interrupted her by reaching out.
“Hey, it was a joke,” he said while he wrapped her up in his arms. “All I meant was that our friendship is strong enough to withstand some shit. It’s a good thing!” He looked down to see that she was ok before continuing. “But if you don’t want to go on a date, if you don’t feel the same way, I totally get it. Offer rescinded.”
That… didn’t make her feel any better. But she was still too anxious to agree to anything. Lisa looked around and suddenly remembered they were in the middle of a mall, like a couple of teenagers, and she straightened and brushed herself off.
“I’m not saying yes, but I’m not saying no, either. Can you give me a day to think about it?”
“Sure, what’s another day? We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Her friends had gone to get dinner after the movie, but Lisa had declined joining them, saying she had food waiting at home. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the reason she hadn’t gone to dinner. She just wasn’t ready for that still.
Lisa went to the kitchen to get her pre-made dinner before heading to the living room and grabbing the TV remote. Before she could turn it on, her reflection in the cursed mirror caught her eye. She was still rosy, her curves still sensual, but there was more to her reflection now. Although she sat on the couch, solemn as she held the plate of food in hand, her reflection was laughing. Her reflected hair was full and it bounced as the reflection moved in laughter. Lisa leaned towards the mirror to see how the eyes wrinkled as she laughed, but instead of wincing at the crow’s feet, she was only able to see a face full of joy. She remembered Carly telling her, years ago, that nobody’s smile could light up a room quite like hers. Seeing this version of her reflection now, she believed it.
Losing interest in the TV, Lisa spotted the book that had come with the mirror. Maybe she could read while she ate? It was a book of fairy-tales. The first was about a witch and a mirror—how perfect. She disappeared into the story for a few minutes.
A bit alarmed, Lisa put down the story and her half-eaten and mostly forgotten bowl of food. She glanced at the mirror and felt the pull to lose herself in the reflection, but only looked long enough to see that there wasn’t an ugly monster like in the story.
Lisa still didn’t like the way she looked, let alone love it. But she realized that she was accepting what the mirror showed her. Maybe self-love wasn’t attainable, but as she looked at her reflection, she thought that self-neutrality might be. For the first time in years, Lisa thought that after tonight, maybe she could stop hating herself. Maybe she could believe that her friends didn’t hate her either.
Lisa was sitting in front of the mirror again, just watching herself. She had found herself doing it more and more recently, which both scared and thrilled her. At the height of her illness, she would look in the mirror and circle parts of her that she hated, that she wanted to work on. It would consume her, and it ended up being part of the reason she quit going out with friends. Eventually, she realized no matter how much she starved herself or exercised or wore the right clothes or put on the right makeup, she never could like the way she looked, and that was when she had thrown out all of the mirrors.
A small part of Lisa was proud of herself for overcoming her aversion to reflective surfaces, while another, maybe smaller, part of her was worried she was sinking into something harmful again. But mostly, she was too preoccupied with the mirror to care. She longed to look, feel, and act like the beautiful woman in the mirror—her reflection had a lightness to her that could only come with a full life, well-lived. A life with friends and lovers, interests and joy. Lisa was jealous of her reflection while craving more of it. In her daydreams, she imagined that wonderful, beautiful reflection was actually her. It took a lot of effort to stop those daydreams.
Ding!
Lisa looked down at her phone and saw a text from David. That was enough to pull her away, even if all the message said was a boring Hey.
Not wanting to keep up an entire conversation through text, she called him instead. He picked up on the first ring.
“I want a date after all,” she said without preamble.
David was silent on the other end for a minute before he said, “great!”
Lisa recognized that it was probably her turn to talk again, but she had no idea what to say. The silence dragged on until it started to get uncomfortable, and then it continued a little after that.
“So… ummm… I remember you saying you liked picnics, do you want to—?” David asked.
“No!” Lisa shouted before she could think, then silently started berating herself. She didn’t want to yell at the man for trying to think of something, especially not when she had told him she adored picnics and thought they were so romantic back when they had first met. She remembered the night still, and remembered that she had hoped that he’d ask her out to one. He didn’t, he had a situationship with someone from one of his classes, so they had landed on being friends instead. Now here he was, attempting to fulfill her years-long fantasy, and she was yelling at him.
“It’s just…” she stammered, trying to come up with a reason for declining. She couldn’t tell him that she wasn’t ready to eat in front of him. “It’s just that I’m allergic to ants.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end. Could silence sound confused? His did.
“You know, the ants that show up at picnics? They come for the food, but sometimes they bite. Turns out, I’m allergic to them! So we should avoid eating outdoors. Or anywhere, really. Because of the ants.”
The longer he remained silent, the more she felt like she had to keep talking. The words were streaming out of her like vomit, and Lisa felt herself incapable of stopping them. She needed to redirect.
“What if we went for a walk in the park instead? Same vibe, no ants?”
“Sure?” he responded. He was trying to come back from the awkwardness of the last few minutes. “Maybe we could feed the ducks,” he added.
“You know, ducks can’t eat bread, it’s actually really harmful to feed them,” Lisa responded, before mentally kicking herself again. She needed to quit shooting down every suggestion he made. And feeding the ducks wasn’t at all the same as feeding herself. Nobody would think it was weird if she were afraid to eat stale bread for ducks—although she was pretty sure she had heard something about it being bad for them. But surely they could have brought carrots or lettuce or whatever it was ducks ate and she wouldn’t be expected to eat it herself.
There was that silence again from David. He very clearly didn’t know what to do, but obviously neither did she.
“Just a walk, then. See you tomorrow?” Silence. “Maybe noon? Northgate Park?”
David waited another beat and then said, “sure.”
“Great!” Lisa said, hoping they could get over the uncomfortableness that she had caused.
“Hey, I gotta go,” David said, but Lisa interrupted him again before he could hang up.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this,” she said with a deep sigh.
“Me neither,” he admitted. There was another bit of silence, but it didn’t feel as awful as it had before.
“What if we just hung out, like normal, for our date?” David asked.
That sounded so much better than any other first date nonsense. Besides, they didn’t really need to do something to get to know each other; they already knew each other. Dating a friend was weird, but maybe it didn’t have to be.
“Can I come over and kick your ass at MarioKart?” she asked.
“Now?” David asked, a bit surprised. Lisa thought a moment—she hadn’t meant to come over right then, but it wasn’t like she had any other plans.
“Sure,” she said with a smile.
“Come on over, I’m looking forward to losing.” Lisa could hear his smile through his voice before the line clicked and the call ended. He never lost when they played together, but that didn’t stop her from trying. This would be fun.
Lisa shut the door to her apartment behind her the next morning. David had walked her all the way home, the perfect gentleman, after she had spent the night at his house. Nothing had happened, she had simply fallen asleep on his couch. She found that she still had really low energy, so her falling asleep didn’t surprise her, but him not waking her up had. Instead, he had found a blanket and tucked her in before going to bed himself. When she woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of coffee and breakfast. She declined the breakfast, but took the coffee. He even made it how she liked, a splash of cream and a bunch of cinnamon. It was impossible to refuse. But somehow, it didn’t feel awkward drinking it with him. She thought about breakfast, her stomach grumbled as she took in the smell of the pancakes, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to eat any. David didn’t seem to mind, and understood when she said that she only wanted to go home and get changed.
He walked her home, despite her protests. It was only a ten minute walk and she was fine, if a bit mussed after having spent the night on the couch. But that was the type of person David was, someone to walk his friends home. When they got to her apartment, she turned to hug him goodbye and he pulled away a little, looking down at her. He bent down as if to kiss her, but Lisa stopped him.
“I have coffee breath,” she said.
“I don’t care,” he whispered, and she let him press his lips to hers.
Her heart sang. It wasn’t her first kiss, Lisa was old enough to have had some experience with dating in her life, but it was the first kiss she had received in almost a year. And it was from David.
The kiss was over before she knew it. David didn’t press her to come inside, didn’t try to kiss her again, just smiled at her and then turned to walk away. What had he said the other day? That they had all the time in the world? She was glad that he was content to take things slowly and make sure she was comfortable. The perfect gentleman.
Lisa felt giddy and girlish as she glided to her bathroom to shower. She didn’t even notice that she hadn’t stopped to look at the mirror before she did.
“C’mon, it’s for Tam’s birthday! And you love Mexican!”
Carly was pleading with her through the phone.
“Fine, I’ll go,” Lisa relented. “For Tam.”
Carly shouted her joy through the phone and Lisa held it away from her ear.
“Thank you thank you thank you! See you at six!” and then a beep as she hung up.
Lisa groaned. Why had she agreed to go out to dinner with her friends? Her therapist had said that she wouldn’t have to until she was ready, and it wasn’t even related to her homework. All she had to do this week was order takeout for one meal, but she was allowed to eat it alone and in the comfort of her own home. She wasn’t ready to let anybody see her eat, or not eat, or struggle with the menu. She just wanted to eat in front of the mirror, like she had every night since bringing it into her life.
Lisa felt panic rise up in her, one of the blinding attacks that gripped her and stopped her ability to breath. She dragged in air, but it wasn’t enough, she was suffocating. Looking up, searching desperately for something to help, the reflection of that mirror caught her eye. The red of the couch and the orange of her shirt triggered a memory of a grounding exercise that she had learned in the hospital. She needed to find every color of the rainbow. Yellow school bus out the window, green fake plant that David had recently bought for her (“so you can’t kill it,” he had joked), blue… blue mug that still held some coffee from yesterday, indigo wasn’t really a color, and violet? Lisa looked around for something purple, but couldn’t see anything in her living room. She walked into her bathroom, knowing she had a purple brush somewhere, and opened her medicine cabinet while she was in there. There were tools, she realized, to help her with this—taking medication was one of the many tools that she could use to keep herself from drowning. Lisa pulled out a pill and her purple hairbrush and realized that she could do this. She could go out to eat and support her friends. She was ready. Although she had no idea what she was going to wear.
Lisa went to dig something out of her closet. Nothing fit anymore except stretchy black leggings and t-shirts, but those wouldn’t be appropriate for a nice dinner out. She remembered that she had boxed up some clothes a few years ago with the intent of donating them. The box hadn’t moved in years. Maybe something from there would fit again.
The first thing Lisa saw when she opened the box was an oversized grey knit sweater dress. She loved how soft it was, but the shape of it was not flattering on her. Still, if it were oversized a year ago, it would probably still fit her now, and it was definitely nicer than her stretchy black clothes. Lisa pulled it on over her t-shirt and looked down at the lumpy, bumpy mess of it. Maybe it looked better from a different angle? Against her better judgment, Lisa went to go check the mirror. It was still the only one she had in her house. She desperately wished for a non-broken (or cursed) mirror so she could see how she actually looked, but this would have to do for now.
The dress looked fine on her. It wasn’t magically beautiful, it was still somewhat casual, but it was pretty. The charcoal color looked good with her hazel eyes and rich, brown hair. The knit pattern was fun. The mirror might be lying to her, but it looked good. With a belt and some tights, the outfit would look even better, but more importantly Lisa herself looked happy and friendly and kind. Her reflection smiled, and Lisa smiled right back at it. As usual, it was a bit difficult to drag her gaze away from the reflection, but she needed to wash the dress and figure out her shoe situation before tonight. Her friends needed her.
Lisa was at the door to the restaurant that they’d agreed to meet at. She had stood there for a few minutes already, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to open it. It was 6:15, and she was supposed to have been there by 6:00. Maybe, since she was already late, she should just turn around and go back home. The gift that she had brought was silly anyway, who would want another empty plant pot? It was probably best to just go away and save her friends the burden of having her around all night. She didn’t want to drag them down.
Despite her thoughts to turn around though, Lisa remained rooted to the spot, the only movement her hand as it occasionally attempted to reach out to the door handle. She didn’t even know if she needed to push or pull. If opening a door was too difficult for her, certainly being out tonight would also be too difficult. She longed to see her friends, yearned for the camaraderie and sense of normalcy, but never knew what to say or how to act.
The door swung open, inwards so I’ll need to push, she mentally noted, and people appeared. A man held the door for his companion to exit first, and then continued to hold the door and looked at Lisa. It would be rude not to go inside if he were holding the door for her. Heart pounding, Lisa stepped through and thanked him with a smile before walking up to the hostess’s booth.
“Hi,” she greeted, “I’m here to meet Tam and Carly’s party.”
The hostess looked through the list and tapped a paper before smiling at her and asking her to follow. Lisa did just that, calmed by the familiarity of the script. She knew what sitting down at a restaurant was like, it was always the same, and there was comfort in that.
As she walked to the table, she took a glance at her surroundings and saw a huge mirror. Before she could avert her eyes, Lisa caught a glimpse of her reflection. She saw her brown hair, curling delicately over her shoulders. Her sweater dress still looked great, she saw her curves underneath of it and didn’t hate to see them. Her body was just a body. And her face was beautiful, Lisa saw that the reflection was smiling at her. She looked the same as she had in her cursed mirror at home.
Reaching a hand up to her face, Lisa felt that there was a genuine smile there as well. She stopped to wave and her reflection waved back at her. It was her. This was really what she looked like, not some weird trick. A lump formed in her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. This didn’t match her memory at all. She had spent so many years focusing on all of her flaws that they had been all that she had noticed when she looked in the mirror, but her reflection had so much positive in it as well.
The hostess realized she wasn’t following and backtracked, then noticed her distress.
“Ma’am? Is everything ok?”
Lisa pushed back her tears and turned a radiant smile on the woman.
“Yes, everything is ok.”
And then Lisa, a whole and wonderful and joyful person, went to meet her friends.
An old witch sat in the backroom of an antique shop that only existed some of the time. It was her lunch break and she was enjoying the fact that nothing had happened today. After a few centuries, she had learned that the best days were the boring ones.
Suddenly, mid-slurp of her noodles, she saw a mirror start to fade into existence. Although dismayed that she’d have to find a new way to pawn off yet another cursed object, the woman couldn’t help but smile. She hoped Lisa was happy with her new outlook on such a beautiful life.
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