Hate Me
The temperature jumped from cold to hot to cold again with each step further into the house. She felt like the uninvited guest in the home of three absent bears, hoping to find a spot that was just right. The perfect spot welcomed her in a back room, just as it did Goldilocks. Heather allowed herself to become comfortable in a place she should have feared.
A light flashed on and she realized she was at the center of a circular room, and that mirrors surrounded her at every turn. No matter which direction she walked, at the end of each fifth step, the mirror ended and a new one began.
Each mirror had a light bulb at the top center that shed its own unique ray of light down upon its respective pane of glass. Heather watched herself in the mirrors as she paced back and forth, a harried expression and jerky movements marking each step. Suddenly, all of the light bulbs went out except for one. The one that remained still shone brightly and beckoned her attention. Heather didn’t want to give it any but knew she didn’t have a choice so she walked slowly toward the lit mirror.
As she neared its reflections, she realized it no longer spit back images of current time. No longer did she stare into her own terrorized eyes and tear-streaked face. Instead, she looked into the reflections of different times and different places throughout her life. When viewed one after another, the scenes began to tell her a story.
It was an ugly tale that detailed the perils of envy, one she should have paid attention to long before. It was bizarre to watch moments of her life through only the reflections of their memories. It was even more bizarre to learn that such an important lesson had been staring her in the face all along.
In the first mirror, Heather saw herself as a girl about four years old. She was peeking around the corner, spying on Lisa and their father. They were playing “I Spy” at the breakfast table, enjoying a bowl of Lucky Charms together, just the two of them. She watched how Lisa smiled, happy to be with her dad and proud that he had chosen to spend the time with her.
Heather watched as her own young eyes turned to thin slits of green. She was taken back by the bright color. The hue seemed uncomfortably symbolic of the sin she had obviously committed.
She donned the finger curls that her mom and grandmother had twirled out of thick, long strands. Heather felt a passing sense of shame when she watched herself crossing tiny arms and sticking out her bottom lip. She was obviously unhappy and the source of her discomfort wasn’t hard to discern.
She watched as her child self patted her short red dress and tossed back her hair. She felt a stab of embarrassment as she watched herself jog into the kitchen, stealing attention from her sister as she jumped into their father’s lap. She flinched at her own delighted giggles and at her father’s inability to share himself with more than one daughter at a time. She shrieked at the tickles he assaulted her with and he laughed at the adorableness of his middle child.
Heather shook her head back and forth before the mirror. She wanted to stop watching but couldn’t help herself anymore than a rubbernecker at a car accident. She wanted to close her eyes to the image of herself snuggling up against his chest and nestling comfortably in his lap. She wanted to stop before she had a chance to see her ten-year-old sister saunter away.
The child inside