The Cracked Mirror

Lucy James stared into the mirror at the mess that she was. She had lost weight – 10 pounds, 2 ounces, according to her journal – but every time she saw her body in the mirror, she winced slightly. The weight changed, the shape didn’t.

She knew her thinking was faulty. She could tick off all the twisted knots in her thinking: weight had nothing to do with being a good person, or being happy. It had nothing to do with being loved. She repeated these logical facts to herself as if a part of her was a professor with a long stick, pointing out a complicated formula on a chalkboard. No matter how many times she tried to poke and prod her dark thoughts out of her mind, though, they always seemed to settle back in. Sometimes it felt like they were watching her. Sometimes they seemed to laugh.

Some of this she confided to her best friend Jill but she hid the raw intensity of it, the laughing voices that whooshed back in after brief respites.  What was the secret to unhooking yourself from the constant fixation on weight and bodies?

“No one knows,” her best friend Jill answered slowly as she chewed on her bottom lip, a habit she’d had since grade school. “It’s like we all tell each other that we’re OK but we don’t really know it yet. But … you really DO look fine. I wish you’d stop.”

She didn’t say it unkindly, but Lucy knew she couldn’t really understand. Jill had always been beautiful, thin and blonde without ever really seeming to try. Even in a messy ponytail, no makeup and sweats, Jill glowed. Too often, Lucy secretly wished they were the same weight and then chastised herself, her inner professor arching an eyebrow as she pointed at the message on the board: Being jealous of your best friend is not being a friend. 

She had sighed and nodded, acknowledging both Jill’s outer and her own inner voices. Then she changed the subject. Lucy knew Jill’s compassion couldn’t reach the darkness that she carried.

I wish I knew how to put it down, she’d tell herself, but she’d quickly follow it with the truth: But I want to be skinny. Next came all of the clarifications: I know it won’t make me a better person or solve my problems. But it would be wonderful anyway.

Waiting for Jill at their coffee spot one Saturday morning, she overheard a snippet of conversation from two teenage girls:

“Oh my God, have you seen the mirror over at Fancies? It, like, makes you look 10 pounds skinnier.”

“No way. Let’s go.”

Fancies. The local thrift store. She made a note of it as Jill came in, beaming smiles.

***

It was nothing much to look at. A plain mirror dressed up in ornate fake gold carving that seemed plastic. The glass seemed warped, and slightly dark at the edges, like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while.

She held up different jackets, not wanting to take the extra step to enter a dressing room. Her face did look different. After making sure no one was looking, she smiled at herself, then modeled one of the jackets. She swished and swirled, watching the movement of the fringe. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she usually did. Her heart felt a little lighter.

“I want to be skinny,” she told the mirror. Her voice reverberated back at her, making her jump a little. Her voice crept deep under its surface, sliding into it as if it were a pond. A small crack formed in the corner, tiny and black, almost too small to notice. In a blink, it began to splinter and web as the mirror shook slightly: Be careful what you wish for.

The dark crack leapt then, from itself to her, implanting, embedding, forcing. She stumbled backward, gasped, and caught her balance. 

When she looked back, the mirror was smooth and clear. No splinters. No cracks. Had she really been daydreaming that vividly? She stole one last glance and hurriedly left the store, an unconscious shudder rising in her body.

***

Jill was the first one to notice. “You look different” was all she said.

Lucy resisted the urge to puff up and smile. She was pleased someone had noticed, but she didn’t like the concern tinging Jill’s voice. Irritation rubbed at her. Jill hadn’t said “You look great” or even commented on her weight loss.

“It’s something in your face,” Jill continued, her brow furrowing. “Are you feeling OK?

“I’m FINE!” Lucy snapped. “Honestly, I just lost some weight, why can’t you be happy for me?”

Jill blinked. “Lu …” she trailed off. Lucy couldn’t remember the last time she had snapped at Jill. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just …”

“Entirely too obsessed with your weight.”

Lucy stared at her friend. Jill had never been so blunt before.

“I don’t know what kind of crazy diet you’re on, but your face … I mean, your color is off. I just want to make sure you’re not sick.”

“I feel fine!”

Lucy had been tired, that was true. But every time she passed the mirror these days, she saw something different than she had before. She seemed willowy, almost, and her jeans were fitting much more loosely. When she looked in the mirror, she smiled. She scanned her image, looking for something to criticize, but she found herself feeling less critical. Amazing what a difference a few pounds could make.

“Look, I finally feel good about the way I look. Let me enjoy it.”

Jill shook her head and looked down.

“Seriously, J? You can’t be happy for me?”

“I’m telling you, you don’t look good, Luce.”

How could she tell Jill that she finally felt free of the dark ghost of emotion that followed her? 

Still, she had been tired lately for no apparent reason. She promised Jill she would go to the doctor, not mentioning she’d had a routine checkup scheduled anyway. Let Jill think she was taking her concern seriously. She looked good.

Her doctor wore the same expression Jill had. He wanted to order tests. 

On the way home, she stopped back at Fancies. There was a group of younger girls buzzing around the mirror, laughing and holding things up just as she had. When they began breaking off to go to the dressing rooms, she looked into it. Eyes that looked older than they were gazed back at her. Dull eyes. 

Something caught her eye. A spider scuttling down the mirror, small and quick, its movement pulling her eye away from herself for a moment. Was it a spider, though, or was it a crack? She blinked, moving closer to the mirror. 

She heard a snicker – was her reflection laughing at her? She saw her eyes widen before she realized one of the young girls was making fun of her. “Check out Obsesso over there.” Another twitter joined the first. Lucy left.

***

She sat in the doctor’s office, with Jill at her side. 

The only word she really heard was malignant, and as she cried in his office and Jill squeezed her hand, murmuring words Lucy couldn’t quite hear, the voice that lived inside her whispered, At least you’re skinny.