“Who are you?” Mia said to her reflection. “At one point, I looked into this exact mirror and saw someone different, I saw myself. Now I see someone who isn’t me. The real me doesn’t wear the heavy makeup, fake eyelashes, or this stupid nose stud. Who I see now isn’t the real me. Everyone who sees me doesn’t get a chance to see past the character that I put on. All they see is the done-up, perfect me. I’m tired of people thinking that I’m perfect, unstoppable, because I’m not. I go out on stage almost every night and pretend to be someone I’m not. I’m not the girl that goes out and finds trouble, or the wild girl that I act like. Underneath the act, underneath all of the makeup and tiny outfits, I’m just a normal teenage girl. No one sees me for who I used to be, not even myself. I’m not even talking to myself right now; I’m talking to the new me. It’s almost like I’m talking to a whole other person. You look so fake, you look unhappy. The real Mia would never wear this much makeup, or have the perfect looking skin. It’s all a mask,” Mia said harshly, staring straight at her reflection. It was almost good vs. evil, old vs. new.
“I can’t keep going on like this, being so unreal and plastic. You act so perfect and lovely, but inside you know that you aren’t really like this. People look up to you, to me, and this is what we give them. The old Mia was beaten down by the fame and money, and this is what she became. This is what I became. I’m tired of this. You aren’t me.” With those last words to the reflection, Mia picked up the lamp next to her, and slammed it forcefully into the mirror. Her reflection was gone, nothing but broken pieces.
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