"Mirrors" Writing Exercise

Prompt:
1. Mirrors
Does one of your characters have an obsession with their appearance? Is she the type that habitually glances at every reflective surface in order to catch a glimpse of herself? Does this behavior have a negative effect? This week, write a story in which this character can no longer examine her appearance. Perhaps she goes on a camping trip, or decides to take down all the mirrors in her house. Think about how this change in circumstance can impact the character’s mood, confidence, and outlook on life.

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Mom had always told me not to play with fireworks. But like any teenager, I ignored her warning. When the first one hit my eyes, I was instantly blinded; color and scenery were replaced with infinite blackness, an inescapable darkness. I wanted to open my eyes (oh, the irony...) to see Jared's face, his warm smile and his hazel eyes that bore deep resemblance to his compassionate mother who single-handedly raised him when his father died a week after his birth. 

I can't remember what I used to look like. I imagine myself with tangled raven hair and pink streaks, but the image is no longer clear in my mind. Jared tells me the pink is still there, albeit faded by the sun's rays. I rely on him to describe my body and face to me. He lives with me now and takes care of me, something a twenty-year old boy should never have to do for his younger-by-one-year girlfriend, but I believe his good intentions came from his mother and her values.

I used to look at myself in the mirror forty or more times a day, depending on whether or not I was going to an event or party that called for formal attire. I put my makeup on slowly and meticulously, spending thirty minutes or more to make sure my foundation was symmetrical and that no spot was left uncovered. I straightened my hair with a flat iron every morning before school and doused it with hair products that claimed to tame frizzy hair and make it sleek. They did the job, most of the time anyway. Black eyeliner and blue eyeshadow were my weaknesses; I used them to compliment my indigo eyes.

I guess you could say I was somewhat of a perfectionist. I needed to look good everyday for myself and for anyone who I just might bump into; hey, it landed me Jared, and for that I am incredibly thankful.

Being blind has been, pun intended, an eye-opening experience. Things that mattered so much to me then are trivial now; I can't compare myself to other people anymore and envy their looks. I can no longer assure myself that I look better than the girls in my class.  I am forced to stay forever in this eternal darkness where everything looks exactly the same.

I wouldn't say that I'm depressed because I have four other perfectly good senses to rely on. But, I do feel helpless, needing to be taken care of at a time in my life when I am supposed to feel invincible. I have a full-time college aid relaying information to me and taking class notes for me. I miss the little things - seeing the sun, rain and snow, making eye contact with everyone close to me and even strangers, the way that people looked when they were excited and happy. But most of all, I miss watching Jared embrace me or the way his lips would hover over mine just before we kissed. My reflection was so far removed from my memory, but the people in my life would likely be there forever.