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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Children's · #1320871
not a mirror image
When momma, gave me the mirror at the ripe of twelve I never knew the secrets it would share let alone broaden my horizons so much.

I was just noticing the boys and when I asked momma why one particular boy insisted in acting like a idiot around me. She smiled and handed me
"the mirror". She said the mirror could show me what I was or most it important of all it could show me what I was meant to be. That sounded outragous to me.
How could it do that and why would I want to know.

Looking in the mirror, I saw freckles sprinkled under my eyes and across my nose.
My eyes were a sea green as daddy called them. I looked much like my momma only smaller. But, as I gazed longer and seemed to fall through the mirror I fell into the eyes and soul of another girl. I saw an older and happier me. I was gazing up at young man. He was standing in front of a beautiful house and children were playing in the yard. One of the little girls was perhaps my daughter. She got mad at her dolly and flung her hand over the baby dolls bed. The dolly disappered....Momma grabbed the mirror from behind me and up over my head. "Of course, to much information is not what you need either. You will grow into what you will be. Just know that people will love you and if they don't you will know what do when that day comes.
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