The Girl in the Mirror

My lips feel so dry, I feel a sharp pain as I open my mouth to yawn. My chocolate brown eyes are fuzzy without my contacts, and my hair is a halo of caramel around my pale, heart-shaped face. I am still shaking. I look around this unfamiliar room as I stare at my cell phone, lying innocently on the wooden sidetable. My heart is hammering in my chest, to an extent that I fear it might stop at any moment. I am drenched in sweat, yet I am shivering with cold. I hear my sister's peaceful breathing of sleep beside me and it brings a smile to my face, knowing she is well. While I am confused, and broken, she is still happy and well. The whole world is not over, I tell myself. Stop overreacting...
My body feels numb as I throw my left, then right leg over the bed and plant my shaking feet on the worn beige carpet. I walk in a daze to the bathroom, quietly locking the door behind me. The face in the mirror is unrecognizable. This girl I see, with her unplucked dark eyebrows and her tangled warm brown hair. Her dark brown eyes are wild with worrry, and her face is completely drained of color. The sweat marks on her blue Fruit-Loops T-shirt are unmistakable. Her lips are a straight line, the bottom one trembling slightly as she stares into a mirror...? It cannot be a mirror because the girl in the mirror is not me. The girl in the mirror is a girl who worries about little things and allows her heart to be broken. That is not me. I am strong, independant. I do not worry about boys or material things. I do not allow people to ruin me, and tear me down, because I am a woman. A woman who believes in herself.
I do not know whether to be happy or sad, and the only emotion that crosses my mind is puzzled. Confused. Shocked. Broken? Relieved?
No, the girl in the mirror is not me. The girl in the mirror is a stranger; with an angel kissing her cheek. I am not jealous of the girl in the mirror. The girl in the mirror will be hurt.
I will not be that girl in the mirror.