Staring into the Mirror

Personal Statement

My name is Taiciya. I’m in the running start program as a junior in high school. Originally this piece was an assignment, but I decided to participate in the Lion’s Pride. I love writing, though I never wrote about myself. So when I got the opportunity I took it and twisted it as I do with my stories and wrote a memoir showcasing what it feels like to lose yourself while trying to pick up the pieces only to lose them again while trying to find yourself in the process, but only growing more insane when you realize who you are.

Staring into the Mirror

We all have friends at some point in our lives. Whether we meet them at school or at a park, something similar always sparks a friendship between you and the other person. It can be something so stupid like you guys share the same favorite color, or you two wore the same shirt. But when two people share the same Mental Disorder, what happens then?

I had a friend, let’s call her Scarlett. I’ve always noticed her sitting in the back of class, alone. She was never the talkative one in the class. It was English after all. Though her silence was different, it was dark in a way. She sat with her arms crossed and head turned towards the window, spacing out. She always had the same downturned expression on her pale face – it made me sad to even think about.

One day we had to pick partners for a reading project, and I decided to ask Scarlett to be my partner. I could read from her expression that she was hesitant, but she agreed anyway. From that day, I sat next to her every day in that class, reading the book we picked out and even discussing things that occurred in our daily lives.

We became friends really fast.

Even after the project was done, I still sat beside her. I also found her at lunch sitting alone as well. Straying away from my friends, I went to go sit beside her. Scarlett instantly lit up. It made my heart flutter from her smile. I couldn’t find a reason as to why she didn’t have friends, she was so sweet and beautiful. Yes, she was shy but nothing about her gave me a reason why she never had friends beside her.

After a while, it became my routine. Sitting beside Scarlett at lunch every day. I even introduced her to my friend group. She was instantly welcomed to sit with us, as my friends all began introducing themselves to her. My friends loved her from the moment they all saw her. The table was always so chatty and loud during lunch, and seeing Scarlett laugh with my friend made me happy.

She was so…talkative which was very rare to see.

The semester went on great; it was all routine and simple. I had my classes and saw Scarlett in English and at lunch. Occasionally we would hang out after school if our schedules aligned, and when we did, we had a blast. I could feel that warmth of excitement linger in my chest whenever I saw that I made her happy again.

Until one day she didn’t show up to school.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought she was out sick since it was still flu season, so I brushed it off as nothing. Even when the next day she didn’t show up I still thought she was sick. So, I texted her wondering if she’s okay, and she responded with a simple “yeah, I’m fine” without any emojis, which she always used. I shrugged it off again.

She didn’t show up for a week.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I couldn’t make out what number was on my screen; it was all blurry and distorted. Though I picked it up to hear a calm female voice on the other line, after suddenly saying a few words they hung up.

Exhaustion was weighing me down, so I fell back asleep as if nothing occurred.

The next day I saw Scarlett, she looked rather pale and the bags beneath her eyes grew deeper and darker. She didn’t speak all day; she didn’t even sit with me or our friends.

She grew distant again.

When I tried speaking to her, she would simply nod or shrug me off. She would never look me in the eyes either. I tried to talk to her, but nothing happened. I asked if she was alright and she always responded with “I’m fine” when I knew she wasn’t fine.

Scarlett’s attendance began slipping away again. She rarely showed up, and when she did, she looked even more tired than before. She also stopped dressing up for school, always wearing baggy pants and baggy sweatshirts. Her makeup was never done, and her hair was always messy but not horrible.

When I managed to hang out with her after school, she was distant, always to herself. Always hiding something. She would often wince when something rubbed along her thighs or when she wore something too tight. I would catch her rubbing her temples when something so insignificant happened that seemed to have bothered her.

She was irritable, and explosive at times.

I tried convincing her to join me at a party I was attending, but the moment I brought it up she exploded on me. Yelling at me to go away, that she didn’t want to go. I just nodded and left.

I didn’t speak to Scarlett for weeks.

When I finally spoke to her, she was different. More blunt and conscious. Her words felt different, she was guarded. She explained what was going on, that she had migraine issues due to her injury in her sport. I believed her, not knowing that she was covering up a lie.

A lie that was uncovered when she broke down in front of me in my room after I asked if she was alright.

The reason Scarlett was gone so much made me shut down in a way unimaginable. I felt like a piece of me was torn straight out of my heart and left to bleed on the freezing floor. I felt numb. So numb to the point I didn’t know what to think or do, I was scared.

She was scaring me.

Her words blended into nothing, they mingled with the air like a toy. She was messing with my head, making me think and believe stories that weren’t true. She was manipulating me, making me think everything was alright when it wasn’t.

She was a liar.

A cold-hearted liar.

How could she lie to herself?

She was a girl who didn’t know who she was, a girl with no personality. Or as I should say, a girl who doesn’t know who she was. A lost girl who has no idea what to do.

A girl who felt like she was drowning in her own mind.

She had no right to feel this way, her life was “perfect.”

She can’t be like this, she can’t.

She spoke to me, her voice soft and brittle. She sounded different, raw.

She got up and walked away, her shadow being devoured by the dark.

I felt a sting in my chest again, a sinking feeling of conciseness. Running my hands along my face. I began crying.

I cried for so long that I forgot time existed. My face was puffy, my eyes blood red from strain.

I got up and walked to the mirror, running my cold fingers along the reflective material. I was a reflection of Scarlett. I was the same as her.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket I called Scarlett; the phone number didn’t exist. I frantically began scrolling through my phone trying to find Scarlett, but nothing.

She didn’t exist.

All I saw was my phone number. My pictures. My friends. My life.

I saw myself in the mirror.