Taylor Sandon
A Short Story
The Broken Mirror
Walking through the old antique store skimming the aisles and shelves in search of a vase to put in my new apartment, I spot an object, as the sun is gleaming off of the mystery item I become intrigued and make my way towards the light. Once standing right in front of the object I realize it is a once beautiful victorian mirror with missing shards around the edges. As I am staring at the full-length mirror I realize not only am I staring at the broken beauty of the mirror, but also the broken beauty staring back right into my eyes; me.
My life has not always been perfect or the life anyone wishes and hopes for. I lost my parents at a young age, so I was forced to live with my Aunty and Uncle, and from then on I always promised I would turn my life around once I had the chance to live on my own. I was evicted from my apartment two months ago due to late bills so I was forced to move into the new apartment that my friend is letting me rent. I’m a little skeptical of her motives and if they are out of pity or if she actually needed a tenant but I was desperate and she has been by my side since before I could remember.
I quickly pull myself back into reality as I try not to let myself think about the broken past, but about the future, I aspire to create for myself. I start to scan more aisles hoping to find a vase completely opposite to my life. Every time I pick up an object I can’t help but bring my attention back to the broken mirror. I hate the fact that it’s a broken mirror and one that looks exactly like one my mom used to have when I was a little girl.
I start to picture the little missing shards of glass and wonder where they are. I picture them reuniting, but then they realize they don’t have anywhere to go back home to without the mirror. I start to picture all the people I’ve let down or who’ve let me down. I start to picture all the people in my life looking for their missing shards. I picture the missing shards not quite sure which path leads back home to my heart, leaving only a few pieces left holding onto the last strings I have left of my heart to give out. Lastly, I start to picture myself as a missing shard not sure where to go, or even where home is supposed to be.
I snap out of my daydream as I walk to the opposite side of the antique store from the broken mirror. I finally come across a suitable vase with little faded patterns all along the side. The ink slowly fades and then comes back to life around different curves. I walk back to the front of the store to pay for the vase. Out of the corner of my eye, the beaming light bouncing across the broken mirror seems to be speaking to me. All those pictures and thoughts come back to my head, making it impossible to shove them out as my brain’s exit sign slowly runs out of light leaving those thoughts to eat at my skull.
I finally give up fighting it as I turn in a different direction as the checkout, walking to the magnetizing light pulling me forward, as if that’s the only way my legs are able to function. I slowly set my vase down as I pick up the surprisingly light broken victorian mirror examining it more closely. Getting a better look at it leaves me feeling broken inside, all those thoughts and pictures that were running through my head earlier feel even more real, being able to feel the divots and rough edges leads me to believe this is what I would feel like if I was an inanimate object.
Right at that moment, I know that I have to have this broken mirror. Some might just let it be and move on with their lives but no, not me. This broken mirror feels like my life and me, looks like my life and me, and tells the story of my life and me as well as people just like me; broken and in need of healing and finding a way home.
I take the mirror to the checkout as an older lady scans it and reads me the total, I hurriedly hand her the money, then quickly leave the store feeling relieved in some odd way. I walk down the main street feeling a little ridiculous carrying a full-length broken victorian mirror. I make it back to my apartment finding the perfect place to lean my mirror up against in my bedroom.