She has three…four…five new gray hairs on her temples. Yesterday, she had only two.
Where’s that pretty girl now? Sally thinks when regretfully looking at the reflection of the lonely woman in the mirror of her tiny bathroom. Any other morning, she would rush to apply makeup; the lengthy routine that has become like a holy ritual of her nameless, homegrown, organically developed religion. But not today. This is the day that Sally will save Jesus. Today, Sally is the heroine, and she demands to be respected as such. Today, she has enough confidence to face this uninvited guest that has camped in her mirrors and won’t ever leave; see what her problem is.
The face of the woman in the mirror is slimmer and more angular than Sally’s. She has unwelcomed brown patches scattered on her forehead and a bit on her left cheek. Cancer would be more tolerable than this damned melasma. Her upper lip is retracted downward and the stupid nose has followed, eager to sink into her mouth.
There is no trace of the once seemingly eternal glow on her skin. Every day it is getting thinner and drier, showing more pronounced lines. Sally tries to stretch the wrinkled skin under her eyes, to remind herself of the good, old days. The aged skin wrinkles again the moment she removes her fingers. The harsh reality hits her with all its gravity: beautiful Sally is one sagging jowl away from the look of a grandma. Soon the rebellious gray hairs will take over her head and howl to the whole world the beginning of their dynasty and the end of Sally’s love life.
Her vision gradually gets blurry. Sally is losing the fight with the tears that are welling up in her eyes. Her sobs are about to follow when she hastily opens the door to the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, which is filled with medicine containers of different sizes and colors. The toothbrush and toothpaste seem irrelevant among those many drugs.
A couple of containers fall over into the sink when her shaky hand searches through them until she reaches the red bottle of Valium with the word ‘Caution’ printed on it in large black letters. To her, however, the emphasis is more of an invitation to be incautious.
She hurriedly unscrews the lid and pops one of the large capsules into her mouth. It hurts to swallow it without water; it always does. But the pain goes untraceable among all the suppressed agony that once again is erupting through her eyes, its drops of lava burning the skin cells behind as they flow on her face.
Closing her eyes, Sally takes a deep breath and lets it out. And another one. And one more. What if she could open her eyes to a world without mirrors? That is not a practical wish, though. She is grown-up enough to know that. What if she wouldn’t have to open her eyes ever again? Well, there are ways to make that wish come true. She is old enough to know a few.
Sally reminds herself that today is not like any other day. Today, she is on a mission to save a troubled soul. Today, life has a purpose.
Sally opens her eyes but has no rush to face herself in that mirror again. Who wants to see that miserable face anyway? she thinks. Jesus does, that’s who. This is the response that gives her the strength to confront herself again. When Sally closes the door of the medicine cabinet, in the mirror, she sees her face conquered by tears.
While staring at herself, with her palm, Sally wipes the tears off her face; first from the left cheek and then the right. She takes a deep sniffle and makes it the last one.
No, this is not the time to feel sorry for yourself. This is the time to go out there and actually do something. You’ve been looking for a reason to live, and now you’ve got it. Yes, Sally. You are the one. Jesus is sick, and you are the cure. You are the heroine, the savior of Jesus. Go, girl. You still got it.
Rejuvenated by the noble purpose and reunited with her once-estranged confidence, Sally brings out her spacious makeup bag from the tiny vanity under the sink and takes out the Super Lustrous Lipstick that she has saved for special occasions. She tears the plastic cover and rotates the bottom until the shimmering lipstick erects from the case. Hello, my little friend. Sally smiles and applies it to her lips. It is as red as blood.