• The time between speech practice and my mother's arrival at school is a wide spanse, and I often find myself at a loss of things to keep me busy, to keep my mind occupied. Not having my ipod on my person, I fiddled with the zipper of my sweatshirt for a while, chewing on my lower lip in thought as I trekked down the three flights of stairs. I knew I had two books in my backpack I could read, but...
    The falling wisps of snow that wound around and about in the wind had caught my eye, and it was much too difficult to avert my attention. No, today was a day to think. Not a day to sit and read.
    I walked down one of the main halls, a hall I hardly ever walked along. It never was the right choice to get me to the next class fastest, or to my locker, or to the library or the cafeteria.
    So I just... Never went there.
    As I walked, I gasped as I passed something strange. Reflections gazed back at me. Reflections of myself.
    And for the first time, I noticed how beautiful I was. The way my chin and jawbone and neck were so defined. I noticed how soft and gentle my features were, but also how harsh and thin my features could be. I noticed how frail I looked, but also how strong. Like I knew that I belonged there. That no one else had a right to be near me. That I was a stand alone complex. I noticed how my hair framed my face, how it fell in soft, but straight masses down in front of my shoulders and down the spanse of my back. I turned slowly, the bright green eyes of my reflection mimicking my every move.
    I allowed myself a small smile before I continued on.
    The only way back to where my mother would be waiting for me was down that hallowed hall (that is, if I didn't want to be trampled by the track and field runners as they practiced) and so I began my journey. As I came to where I knew my reflection would be waiting for me, I sighed.
    The image I once had seen was gone.
    And I realized that she wouldn't return for a while.... Not until I let my soul free.
    Staring back into my eyes was my rough exo-skeleton, not the girl who was trapped deep inside of me. The real one, not the gimmicky reflection.