TRIGGERS: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT, EXCESSIVE DRINKING, DEROGATORY LANGUAGE, ATTEMPTED SELF-HARM, ATTEMPTED RUNNING AWAY

The girl stumbled into her bathroom, tears running down her cheeks. She had just barely escaped him, her torn clothes dangling like rags off of her frame. She closed the door, locking it as she heard him drunkenly stumble down the hall after her. He banged on the door, rattling it in its frame. “Open up slut!” she heard the bottle shatter on the floor; he must have dropped it, she cowered against the furthest wall, staring at the door as it shook, crying. Fear made her shake as she wondered if he would get in. she knew what would happen if he did, and it terrified her. After what seemed like forever, she heard him grumble. “Fine, you stupid bitch. No one wants to fuck you anyway, whore.” she heard him stumble away bored and drunk, as she shakily stood up. She walked over to the sink, staring at the broken girl reflected in the mirror. She reached into her hiding place, pulling out the blade she hid there. She looked at her wrist, at the scars from the last few times, the red rings around her wrist from his grip. She closed her eyes, hearing a faint voice in her head. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it. She shook off the voice, pressing the freezing blade against her wrist. She took a deep breath, ready to jerk the blade, ready for pain to help her release. She pulled the-

“STOP!” She gasped, jumping as the blade clattered to the floor. In addition to the voice coming from in front of her, it felt like someone had slapped the knife out of her hand. She looked at her mirror in shock, her mirror staring back like normal. What wasn’t normal was her reflection’s hand. While her own hands were still in position, her reflection was covering her mouth, as if she had said something she shouldn’t have. Slowly, her reflection lowered her shaking hands, taking a deep breath.

“Please don’t.”

The girl stepped back in shock and fear, tripping over the blade. She fell back onto the floor, the mirror leaving her view. Quickly, she stood back up, staring at the mirror. Her reflection stared back, a perfect mirror image. Breathing hard, she searched the mirror for any sign of what just happened. None being seen, she took a deep breath, shaking her head. Her nerves were getting to her. She unlocked the door, slowly opening it a bit. She could hear her step father’s loud guttural snore. She sighed quietly, leaving the bathroom quickly and going into her room. She stripped off the torn shirt and jeans, grabbing her favorite dress. She got dressed, grabbing her hoodie and her backpack, loading it up with spare clothes, she put on her hoodie, looking around the room. She would miss the rest of her stuff, but she couldn’t stay any longer. She would grab food and then leave.

As she stood in front of the fridge getting food, she had an idea. Quickly going into the bathroom, she looked around on the floor. She remembered it there, but she couldn't find the knife anywhere. Assuming it had slid underneath something, she shrugged, turning to leave.

A reflection caught her eye. She looked next to her, eyes wide. There, on the counter, was two knives, one real, one a reflection. The surprising thing was that both knives were on the other side of the mirror.

She slowly looked over at her reflection. The other her stood there, in the same rags, staring determinedly at her.

“If you’re going to hurt yourself with it again, I won’t let you.”

The girl said nothing, simply staring in shock as her reflection spoke to her.

“I know someone who can help. You don’t need to leave, you don’t need the knife. Just listen.”

The girl gulped, nodding slowly. Her voice had not yet come back.

“Good. now listen closely...”

THREE YEARS LATER

The girl smiled a bit as she came home, smelling her foster mom’s cooking. “I’m home!” she could hear her foster siblings playing video games in their room. Walking, she went into her room, passing the bathroom. She stopped, turning back and walking in. she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Reaching out, she laid her hand on the glass, feeling as well as seeing the reflection’s fingers curl around her own as her smile grew.

“Thanks.”