junior project.

heres the preview:

PREFACE
This is my life. It starts with this girl, she appears to be me, but if you asked me who she was, I couldn’t even begin to tell you- make you understand who I am. When this girl looks in the mirror she sees someone who everyone else sees. She isn’t always happy. And wishes the world was different. But give me someone who doesn’t wish that. She is a writer, an artist, a singer, a performer, an activist, a lover, a woman, a sister, a daughter, and a friend. She is a girl, in this world who’s just trying to make it through.

CHAPTER ONE
There is a mirror in the room, in the middle, which stares blankly back at me. It sits alone with only one face to show, tall and wide upon a flat oak chest of drawers filled with many colorful pieces of cloth. I hate this mirror you see because this mirror is the mirror of lies. This mirror tells you who you are because with it what you see is what you get. It will tell me when I look ugly or fat. It tells me when I look unclean or when I don’t have enough make up on. It even tells me that no matter what I do, this is as good as it’s going to get. I hate this about my mirror. I hate that my mirror has the power to make me and tell me who I am. I am however just as blind as my magic reflector. This piece of glass is as deep as I am confident. What we are both too blind to see- the mirror and me- is that who I appear to be does not and will never make me who I really am.
As I stare into my reflection I study every tiny millimeter of my body and face. Not a single inch of fabric overlooked, not a follicle of hair out of place, not an eyelash of makeup undone. My mirror keeps a hold of me until it and I are sure that my bright blonde hair, green eyes, perfect fair complexion, and outfit for the day are perfect. While reaching for the door knob, I ask myself, am I ready? Those three little words seemed to flow through its daily cycle in my head every morning. If there was one thing I always had to be sure of, it was that I was ready to take on the world. Believe me; it was on every 18 year old college freshmen’s mind. Sure the circumstance is a little different for everyone, but for me, it was a thought imprinted in my brain ever since I was old enough to know how to apply mascara and shop for my own clothes. Leaving my mirror every morning gave me a false sense of who I was. Yes I left each day knowing I was Lauren Kaye, 18, and never going to get out of Colorado, but I was so much deeper than what an inch thick of heartless glass could see. Then as I left, I decided to forget it, the dirty liar of a mirror was right. It’s as good as its going to get, so I should walk out and forget it.
That’s just what I did. I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, pulling my sweater tighter against my stomach as I leaped and skipped a couple of steps. I was almost late for a class, and it was freezing! The cold stone flooring didn’t help either and as soon as I took one step onto it I almost screamed. Mary must have left without turning the heaters on. Mary was my house maid, even though she was more of a mom than anything. She stuck around for me after the accident and probably didn’t mind since I was left with enough money to keep her. I flipped the switches under the counter and couldn’t move until I was sure things had begun to warm up. I put some bread in the toaster and had started to reach for a coffee mug to make some hot cocoa when it caught my eye. A flash of red spluttered around in a sea of white outside the front window. I turned slowly, closing the cupboard back up as I walked to it. Passing through the kitchen and onto the green carpets I shuffled through the fancy country florals of furniture and stopped just an inch away from the window pane. There it was and I couldn’t believe it. Was I imagining this? It was impossible since the doctors said something like this could happen to me. There, in the midst of all chaos with the wind and snow twisting and blending together to make just another one of winter’s storms, was a red ribbon, just like the one my mother had given me the night- POP. Toast was done, and as I had jumped to see my breakfast, the bow had disappeared. Great, another bad dream of some sort, I thought. I had a lot of those recently and although I couldn’t figure out why, I brushed it off and ran back to my cocoa. I ate and drank my entire tiny meal and glanced at the clock, remember my class at the University, shoved the dishes in the sink and ran for the door. My Jacket was hanging by my boots and board, just as I had left them yesterday. Juggling everything at once I had finally made it out the door and ran to the front gate. Flinging it open with no concern to its possible damage, I threw my board down and strapped in.