Creative Works… 154 The Girl in the Mirror by Leslie Galvan
The taste of alcohol still stings my tongue from the night before. The pounding on my head is merciless. My itchy eyes feel like they haven’t rested in days, and my body feels like it has been stepped on, kicked on, and trampled on. I smell the vomit on my clothes before I see it. I try to move but I’m glued to the bed. My insides hurt. I feel like I’ve either been laughing or crying for hours. I take deep breaths and focus on getting up. I finally manage to sit up. I look around the room. It’s my room. I see my shoes and purse scattered on the floor. My messy desk in the corner. The pink drapes my mother picked out. It’s my room. I’m at my parents’ house. But why can’t I remember how I got here? I slowly get up from the bed and pick up my purse. I rummage through my lipsticks, wallet, and perfume, but don’t find it. I must have lost it at the bar. I don’t know who I would call even if I had found it. I go into the bathroom and what I see out of the corner of my eye frightens me. Her brown hair is crumbled in wads, sticking up from all sides. The mascara on her cheeks and the pink lipstick smeared on her face makes me tear up. The glittery eyeshadow on her left eye has disappeared. Her blue dress is torn in the front. I don’t know who that is, but it is not me. I don’t know how much time goes by, but I just stand there. I try to look for a sign. A clue. I search my own face for answers. My green eyes are bloodshot, swollen. The more I stare at myself, the more nauseous I feel. I begin sobbing uncontrollably. I fall to the floor and curl into a ball. Everything hurts, and I don’t know why.
