Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

“Stop looking,” she tells the woman in front of her, that woman being Esther, the one reflected by the pane of glass fitted above the sink. She catches her face pinch together as her body crumbles to the floor. She leans against the door, pushes it closed and that night, the vow she made all those years ago is kept. “Never let them see the tears. Your suffering is your own to bear.”

For someone to hear her silence that night. For the mirror to tell her that she is still the fairest of them all. For his hand to knock on the door and push back against her pushed back. No one heard. No one told. No one came. And the commitment to “we,” the kind found in “team,” rang hollow.

Esther limps toward the bed, head down. Knees curl up to chest, then the bridge of her nose, elbows tucked, back arched. Esther returns to the womb, to a time when all that mattered to her was Mommy and all that mattered to Mommy was her. And Esther’s mind returns to all those times with Mom. Of course.

The time in apartment 6E. Dad on one side. Mom on the other. And standing in the gap is a girl in her teens. By herself. Between a Mom and a Dad. One parent wanted to be heard rather than listen. The other self-flagellating while letting the other speak, mostly shout. Esther waits for the ceasefire, then searches for a room, and pushes the door closed. Her sorrow, her solitude, both greeted by the temporary peace.

And then she thinks about that other time. Jeff had just left for college so his room was now hers. The bunkbed with red, yellow, and blue rungs. A stiff mattress on the bottom and a young lady’s clothes laid out on top. Dad had sent her to her room with the command: “You need your mom.” The mention of that woman conjured up hatred for all she never did and desire for all that could be done if… Esther falls asleep beside a finished box of tissues.

And the third time. Uncle Phil and Cousin Will are there. An estranged father has just walked out. Again. The scene unfolds and this time, Esther’s tears, so used to the quiet, are set to the theme song from that show. The credits roll. A sitcom finds its way into reality.

Sincerely, Esther