I know a girl is just like me. We have the same features. We have the same black eyes. The deepest black with a hint of brown. We have the same skin colour, the same big teeth, the same mole inside our eyes. The same dark lips and the same memories. Each and every time I see her, I see a bold, free-thinking young girl, whose thoughts are wild and free; she is a butterfly yet to grow its wings. And, If she does, that'll be the last time you'll see her because she'll fly away.
She always manages to stand out in the crowd. Sometimes because of her beauty, sometimes because of her wit. Whatever be the scenario, you'll always see her smile. And those shallow dimples, Oh My God! you could poke your fingers into them. She is my best friend since the first time I saw her. She gives the best company. So much that, when I laugh she laughs with me and when I cry, she metamorphs into my pillow. Practising mono-acts and speeches are always fun because she is the first one to fall out of line.
Yet this girl with such a rare charisma wears a mask. A mask crafted so well, that no one would even suspect she wore one. In the heart of her hearts, she "thinks" she is ugly and...and that she is clumsy. She is afraid, afraid of all the dangers of the outside world. So she puts on her mask. The mask wears a perfect eyeliner, lip balm and it is always stretched in a smile.
She removes it only when she talks to me because I'm the only one she can trust and the only one she's got too. And I can't help her because she's stuck in the MIRROR.