Ten years ago, the mirror watched my happiness brush my teeth. The mirror smiled at the innocence that brightened my eyes. My eyes, dark like the night, blushed into a dark brown. The mirror was my friend, and the mirror was happy that I followed its morals.

A year ago, the mirror watched with hate. The innocence had slipped away. I knew the mirror’s intentions, but I still felt the pull to obey. My eyes stayed brown, winced when they saw each another. The mirror put them against each another, a war like no other. The mirror was the person I wanted to avoid the most, and I was what the mirror wanted the most.

Today, the mirror still tries to reach in for my heart to break it apart. But my layers of bandages are wrapped strongly around. My eyes embrace each other. The connection was finally found. The mirror is just an acquaintance for the moment, yet I hope one day it turns into the kind friend it once was.

—By Chiara Z., 13, Chile