She loves to look into me.

Her hands tug and pinch at her skin while I reflect her back movement for movement.

I’m tall and narrow enough for her to see every part of herself, but always at the worst angles and perspectives.

I’ve become distorted with time and use.

If the lighting is bad in the room, she’s never able to tell if the way I portray her skin is its actual coloring or not.

Sometimes she thinks her makeup is blended well, but I know she’s going out into the world cakey and over powdered.

But this isn’t the only thing I see.

I see the man who comes in here every night. I reflect him as I perch opposite the door. He likes to stand at the foot of her bed and watch her sleep.

He unbuckles his pants, squeezing and pulling at whatever he’s got hidden in there.

Some nights he leaves right after his strange ritual. Others, he walks up to her and does something I can’t see from my spot on the wall.

I cannot here either.

I can only see the shadow of the headboard as it shakes back and forth.

Or how after he leaves she sometimes gets up to cry, pressing herself against the door.

I watch her with her crumpled nightshirt and missing bottoms. She pees herself sometimes.

Sometimes she turns towards me with a glare so fierce I almost want to hide instead of reflecting it back.

I watch as she starts to take blades to her wrists. Then she starts losing so much weight I can see every single vertebra in her back and all the ribs on her chest. Her collarbones are stabbing through her skin.

Then one night she stays standing in front of me. It’s right after the man leaves the room.

She stares into me.

So I do what I’m not supposed to, I leave the mirror.

I reach out to her until I see her face twist in horror. In a split second we’ve switched spaces.

She’s banging on the opposite side of the structure. All of her frail bones pounding as best they can, but there’s nobody who can see her but me.

I live her life and I take her place, but I hate it. The man repulses me. The world outside the bedroom is loathsome and horrible. I try to trade back, but to no avail.

I watch the girl in the mirror slowly rot away. She decomposes in the mirror. I never see her reflect me. She never does her job properly.

I yank her off the wall, allowing her to fall onto the floor face first.

The mirror shatters into several pieces. I can feel each crack and shatter snap my own bones as I die with my reflection.