Without A Reflection <3

Instructions

Without A Reflection (The Girl I Knew) Amelia Stone, 22 Getting up has always been the hardest part of the day. A birthday doesn’t make it any easier. I sprang out of bed and—oh shoot I was so late. Nonononono. I rushed over to the speaker and blasted 22. My first and last ever song as a twenty two year old. “Because I don’t know about you, but I am feeling TWENTY TWO!” I rushed into the washroom, almost falling on my face, and got ready with approximately…5 minutes till I had to get there. Even as I was speeding through my routine, I looked over my shoulder constantly. Over my shoulder but never in the mirror. I’d considered just breaking all of them, unable to bear the weight my own face gave me. Dad had said he had a surprise planned for me when I got there, knowing him it was probably slippers that caught his eye, but he sounded excited and weirdly sentimental. So now, I was excited and sentimental. The road to chez Dad was surprisingly long for 5 kilometres. Damned traffic. I turned my head and looked through my very tinted window. Big mistake. Again, my reflection stared back at me, all wide eyes and tilted head, almost playful. Again, I stared at her, stoic and tense, my eyes narrowed. Then the next second, as if a flip was switched, her face took on the same expression, moving in tandem with mine. Dad’s house was a crooked, ugly old thing, completely at odds with the glamour inside. I kept telling him to just sell it, but he wouldn’t listen. Too many memories. “Daaad!” I screeched as I ran inside, my gaze carefully avoiding the windows. The difference between the outside and inside of my old house had never escaped me. “Darling! Come in, fast. And wait here, s’il vous plait, I’ll be just a moment.” And with that he left the room. “Just a moment!” I plopped down on the couch, gazing up at the decor my mom put so many years ago. We never did have the courage to take them down. They preserve her memories, was what Dad had said. “Look. At. This.” As he said the last word, he pulled it into my line of sight. The world dissolved around me as I stared at the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I think I squealed. The dress in front of me was bright red fabrics and shining sequins. And it was a gradient at the bottom? Was I dreaming? But most importantly, I knew that dress. Knew it from so many of the photos I’d studied like my life depended on it. “I—is that—?” I couldn’t form proper words. My dad gave me a warm smile and nodded. “It was your mom’s. She wore it on her 23rd. So I thought it would only be fitting if you…” He trailed off and quirked his eyebrow, letting me fill out the rest of the sentence. This time I definitely squealed. “So you gonna try it out or wh—” I stole it from his hands and locked myself up in the guest room. I think I sat there for a good 20 minutes, curled up on the floor with the dress. Breathing in my mom’s scent. Even though it wasn’t there anymore. I put the dress on as carefully as I could. It was 2:34pm. Which meant another hour till I was 23. Which also meant everyone was late. I walked up to the mirror in the bathroom, bracing myself for my image. I scoffed. Eisoptrophobia. But I was too focused on the dress to pay attention to how my reflection’s eyes gleamed more than mine did, her face more curious. I went out at about 2:50 and still no one had arrived. It wasn’t unusual for my friends to be late but this late? We’d agreed to meet up at 2pm. Ironic wasn’t it? The only people I was with on my birthday were my dad and my uncanny valley refl— “SURPRISE!” “Holy mother of God.” I jumped. How did that work? I always prided myself by thinking that I would be able to see a surprise birthday party being planned from miles away. I sighed. Overconfidence really is the death of humanity. “Didn’t think of that, did ya?” Olivia (aka Livvie, forever my favorite cousin and my best friend) came up and punched my shoulder. “Say it with me: Overconfidence…” “...is the death of humanity. Yeah, yeah I know.” I skipped over all the classic questions. When did you guys plan this? Or, ooh my favorite, Why didn’t you tell me? Lunch was served, Subway, my favorite. And as time creeped past, slowly approaching 3:36pm, I grew more anxious. Another year passed. Another year living with my reflection. How much longer till it was the last? The clock struck 3:36 and everyone cheered. Amelia Stone was officially 23 years old. As we all got into positions for the photo, I looked over my shoulder again. Where was she?