Mirrors are reflective. That’s a fact, everyone knows it. For it to not be true would be considered a lie. Something inaccurate. Something unproven because everyone sees themselves in a mirror.

Which is why as a child I stopped telling everyone I couldn’t.

I’m unsure as to why. I should be able to see myself. Everyone else can see _me_ in a mirror, yet I never show up to myself. Not right at least. I’m too pale, my eyes are too bright, my teeth are too sharp, my hair is the wrong color. If I can see myself at all I look unnatural. Faded.

Sometimes I catch glimpses of myself out of the corner of my eyes. Then I when I _really_ try to look I can’t see anything at all. Nothing but the walls behind me. It always feels wrong.

As if I’m somehow deceiving myself. As if there’s a pretty lie surrounding my soul that only the mirror can reveal. I don’t think it likes me much.

Not that I know what ‘it’ is. The thought simply came to one night when I woke up in a cold sweat. I think there was something in the mirror, but it was too dark to see. The alarm bells ringing through my head kept me from looking too long.

I think that might have been a good thing, because whenever I think about it chills run down my spine and my vision blurs into something staticky. Like an unplugged TV, or a disconnected radio.

I think I am unplugged, whatever that means. I just know something isn’t quite right with me. How can I be? As far as I’m aware I defy everything people know to be true.

Proven facts mean nothing to a lie like me. Is that what I am? A lie? Something lost in the world of truths because something or someone stopped believing in the reality of what I am?

How could that happen? How can I still exist? Are mirrors showing me the truth? The reality that I _don’t _**_exist?_** Maybe that’s a crisis I don’t actually want to have.

I don’t look in the mirror anymore. I don’t want too. Not when there’s no point in any of it. I think I’m fine with the lies. Lies are living, and I’ve decided not to question it any further than that.

‘Cause I think if I acknowledge it, then I know the truth. And that defies exactly what I am. I’m not sure that would be particularly ideal for a thing like me.