For @beezknee-z on tumblr.
The woman in the mirror was unrecognisable.
Her hair was dark when it should be light, her eyes were haunted when they should be open, her skin was pale, deathly pale when it should be rosy, full of life.This woman has seen things unimaginable. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees death and blood. She hears the screams of her fellow soldiers, their dying breaths, their last words, sobbing through their pain.
It kills her.
She’s here, back home when she should be out there, with them. No, not on the battlefield, up there, wherever the soul goes to pass on. This life was not for her.
She could barely recognise herself in her mother’s pictures. That girl was dead and gone. The girl who had loved art and music. The girl who enjoyed reading and writing. The girl who liked swimming and cycling. The girl who knew how to kill someone in mere seconds, but who also knew how to save someone’s life. That girl, the one that her parents had waved off when she was going on her first tour, was gone. And she was never coming back.
But standing here, looking at herself in the mirror, she decides – maybe, becoming someone else was better.
She couldn’t be that girl anymore, she had been too naive and young. But she could be who she was now – a lost, broken wanderer, who just needed to find her feet again in world that didn’t make sense. And this was the first step to doing just that.
Seeing herself for who she was. Not naive, not corrupt, not innocent, but something in between.
A perfectly imperfect human being.