Trapped

            The little girl stared at her face in the mirror as she stood on her tiptoes in order to see herself. Her fingers were pressed against the glass as she traced her reflection: sky blue eyes, pale skin, button nose. She felt a deep-seated confusion at the fact that this face in the mirror belonged to her, that her soul was trapped in this body, a place where she didn’t belong. What if she had been born different? If someone else’s body were hers instead, would she be the same person? Would she be more comfortable, or feel more at home?

            She couldn’t remember the first time she’d noticed she was different. She was not like other girls, and it seemed she had always known this fact. This terrible, unbelievable fact- she would never be the same. She would never be like the others.

            She hurriedly turned away from the mirror in disgust, hoping it was all just a dream and she’d wake up soon, in her body. She could imagine it now-one day all the wishes and hopes and prayers would work, and she’d get out of bed and see herself in the mirror, and everything would be right.

            As she thought this, her mom walked in suddenly. “Why aren’t you dressed? We have to leave in five minutes or you’ll be late again!” she said impatiently as she handed her son his school uniform. After he had pulled on the khaki pants and button-up shirt, she ran a brush through his hair. “We need to get you a haircut soon. It’s getting too long. Now get your books; I’ll meet you in the car.”

            The girl slowly turned and looked once more into the mirror. She caught a glance of her eyes, wide and scared. When would her mom ever realize that she actually had a daughter? And would she ever accept that?