Lying here I spend my days in wonder. There's a fire in my heart now and I know that it cannot be put out. I look through the mirror that is positioned below my feet and I smile, it fills my heart with a glow I could never have imagined to belong inside me. I wonder, when people see me do they realise my success? I am seventeen years old and I have accomplished more than many in their lifetime. Yet with this success and accomplishment does not come fame or fortune, it brings with it a sense of life, what better reward for defeating the greatest demon than to know at seventeen that life is good? As I lie in darkness I smile as the light from inside me illuminates my reflection and I drift through the barriers of time and space.

"No one ever said it was easy." No one ever said it wasn't. I look around and I see what is really there, no mirages anymore, no miracles of childlike beauty sprinkled across the lively green, the delicate beauty scattered among that which is polluting life. The sun still shines but no longer does it create the sense of warmth highlighting the rainbow colours of each delicate petal. The breeze provides a chilling shiver creeping up my back instead of its old refreshing gentleness smoothing my heated skin. Silent butterflys dance along the wind, their fragile wings brushing against the drooping branches. They cause smiles to creep across the young faces of infants who eagerly follow them in circles until their parents shout impatiently, never noticing the rare innocence of each child's infactuations with each tiny perfection. Instead of this beauty often associated with the delicate winged creatures I see sorrow and hopelessness. Each butterfly has less than a day of this freedom, if freedom exists at all, before it drops to its unfortunate yet inevitable death, it moves about the air in search of purpose, an ultimate goal before it reaches its end, then without ever having found a reason at all it simply falls and is forgotten. I fail to see the beauty in this. Death surrounds us, it mixes with the air we breathe and flows through us poisoning our insides until we choke and can no longer see the innocent beauty around us. I have confronted death and embraced it. My life was stole through my torn innocence and my fake perception of beauty scraped from my vision. The window which framed this pale enchantment seemed all too clear infront of me, I reached out and the cold, hard glass burnt my fingertips. I drew back my hand in shock and stared where my fingerprints left a unique swirl of lines clear on the stained greying pane. My mark on the world at last had been made but as always all evidence faded away and I became unknown once more, like the butterfly I found no reason. Why must I wait so long for the inevitable? Cursed with life I sink into the shadows knowing my death will bring no recognition, just the harsh reality, that everyone dies alone. I blinked and in a moment the image behind the glass shifted. I saw a girl. I watched her as she sat on her bed, her arms holding her knees to her chest. I watched her acid tears fall from her clouded eyes and I saw the pain inside her heart. She stood and walked towards me, staring through the glass and suddenly I was her reflection. I saw the hate in her eyes, I saw the fear and I saw the reality, I saw myself.

Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the pain. I wanted to forget and run away but I knew it was this girl I saw every night through the broken mirror who gave me the strength to face the sun. I knew if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be who I am.

The sirens of order screeched sending waves bouncing off the walls, sudden movement all around me but I sat still. I at last turned my head, slowly to see the familiar sight of the few left, walking from me, those that I had once known, who thought they had once known me. I realised then, as I had done before, that it appeared that I was the only one capable of caring. Every time I turned around I lost all touch with life, or rather, all life lost touch with me. I was trapped by sorrow I could not word, even to myself, while all else continued, I watched as time pulled the world I once knew past me but left me standing still, staring, crying, helpless and alone, I was lost. I thought about those I missed, those I used to know and love and I wondered if they ever thought about me or if they had simply forgotten like they all seemed to do. I knew people cared but no-one missed me, no-one cared enough to remember me. I was like a child's favourite toy, at first my shiny new exteriour drew them to me, then I seemed old, then they found I was only wood, glued carelessly together and I was falling apart. Against all others I was worthless. They threw me out and never thought twice and then I was forgotten, lost from all loving memory, I was alone. I felt the fear of losing what I had already lost, curling in the back of my throat, I feel nauseated by the intensity of it. I feared that no-one could care for me the way I needed, the way I cared, the way I loved with the essence of my heart and soul and freely gave it to those I met. I feared it was too late for me.

I rose from my seat entranced by the horror of realisation. I followed the footsteps of those long gone and I pushed against the toilet door. Before I had truly decided the decision was upon me and somewhere inside I knew I could not stop it from happening. I closed the cubicle door and rested my arms upon the toilet seat. I could already feel the nausea inside me from the sandwich I had ate before. I could feel the fear of gaining more weight stabbing at my mind and before I could even think, it had already happened. The enemy from within me, that which filled me with fear every time I stared at the broken reflection, was regurgitated and for the moment I was free.

Thinking of the past, I do regret it but it was an addiction, a daily routine that I could not break. I wished that someone could have noticed sooner, before that day, but then, maybe it was what I needed, maybe it was my wake up call. I keep going back to that day again and again in my mind, I wish I could stop it from happening, I wish I could have seen what would happen, but as I said, maybe it was necessary. Maybe, without that moment, I would never have opened my eyes, the glass would have kept breaking that little bit more each day until my past wish of another life was granted.

I watched the movements of the girl infront of me, they were clumsy and slow, her face was chubby and the sight alone nearly made me sick. I felt the tears in my eyes. Tears of sorrow for this poor girl. I held them back causing a lump in my throat, a lump of sadness. I walked towards the girl and reached out my arm towards her, fingers outstretched, the girl did the same. Closer and closer until they touched and the reality hit home. The tips of my fingers touched the glass, it was cold and hard. I could no longer hold back the tears, they flowed from my eyes, unable to stop, the lump hardened, it would not go, I stared infront of myself, the truth was almost unbearable and the sight was painful but I could not look away. Then the music sounded, the alarm clock radio made me turn instinctivly to the sound, I switched it off and turned back. Letting the tears pour freely down my cheeks now I bit my lip, then I picked up the chair next to my bed and through it at the girl infront. She was gone. All that was left was the shards of mirrored glass littering the floor. The tears gushed violently from my blue eyes and I bit my lip harder and fell to the floor. I was filled with despair, I rocked, backwards and forwards sitting cross-legged, my lip was now starting to bleed. I could still hear the glass breaking, the image of the girl floated infront of my minds eye as though it was tattoed to the inside of my eyelid. Then I stood, weak and unsure. I left the room, my feet catching the sharp edges of the glass but I didn't care anymore. I was so numb I couldn't feel. I left the house in silence.

I opened the dorr to a place I didn't belong to and stepped outside and felt the cold penetrate my skin, hitting my bones like a thousand knives. It was dark, or at least it was dark enough for the lampposts to still light up the streets and the soft light blinded my eyes. The sky was a dark blue with grey clouds in clusters. The air was thick and the ground damp from the previous nights' rain. The sombre atmosphere added to my pain and my tears filling my eyes were personified as the rain began to fall once more. I heard the children down the street laughing and playing. It wasn't my world, It wasn't where I should have been. I belonged ina world with clouds beneath my feet, with twig-like trees, leafless, lifeless, with teardrop acid rain that burnt my soul to black. A world where blackness stole my light. I moved through the streets, dazed. I could still taste the blood in my mouth from my lip. The world around me became hazy and unreal. Each step faded into the next until I felt like I was floating, just above the concrete. I wondered if I was but I couldn't see enough to be certain. I wondered through the broken street, each step tore at my heart, lost in a world of darkness, I wanted to be free from. I stumbled off the curb. Then the angelic light at last found me, casting its bright white glow on my pale skin, reflecting off the percherd tears in my sunken eyes. I blinked to see my saviour in the world I didn't belong in but it was lost behind the beaming white. I heard a loud sound echoing in my ears before a sudden intense pain, then everything faded to black.

She stood it up infront of me and at first I wouldn't look, I didn't feel ready. I wasn't better, I knew that, I still felt it burn inside me, but I knew now that something was wrong. I knew now that I was ill. However, it still filled me with hatred as I turned towards the glass. I didn't want to see her, I hated her. But she was gone. Looking into the mirrored glass before me, I couldn't breathe, the image I saw infront of me, the girl I saw standing there, it wasn't her. The fat, clumsy girl who always peered at me from over guinea pig cheeks had been replaced by someone else, someone I didn't recognise, someone I couldn't beleive was me. Her skeletal form looked unstable, her eyes looked bruised and sunken, she was pale, so pale. I cried.

I opened my eyes, back from my past and I had brought the tears with me. Yet, I smiled when I saw myself in the mirror now, the glass wasn't broken, my perception no long er warped. I knew now that the girl I saw through the glass was me. I felt proud. It still seems strange to feel proud of myself, but I know my success is worth more than a thousand oscars, because I fought an enemy bigger than most and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I had to fight myself. Darkness had consumed me and, although for a while I had prayed for an end, I'm glad now I went through it, because now I can say what most can't. I can stand up and say I survived.