Mirror: Her Crutch is Her Cyanide ★

Characters

Original

Description

There are two people inside of me.

One is as fragile as a butterfly.

The other is her protector,

but he's also her cyanide.

Foreword

I look in the mirror and see my reflection as my counterpart. I think of the face in the mirror as a friend, and not anything more. Not really myself. More like another person. It's sort of difficult to explain. Let's put it like this: I see myself as if I were two people. One of them is a vulnerable girl who needs to rely on a crutch. The other person is that crutch. 

The vulnerable individual is easily influenced. She's always confused, lost in herself. Lost. So lost. Always thinking, always, always thinking. She often stares, her gaze trained on no particular thing. She just wanders. She's never focused. She's always got butterflies in her stomach, and the cat's always got her tongue. Always timid. Always afraid of something, but she's not sure what it is. She's easily distracted and can't ever make up her mind about anything. 

The crutch.. He's there to keep the vulnerable individual in check. He's assertive. Dauntless. Nothing can shake him. When the vulnerable individual is down, he forces her to her feet or he'll just kick her in the ribs. Hard. He cares about her so much to the point where he is cruel to her, but it beneficial for her. He doesn't know how to behave any differently. He forcefully pushes her into situations that she usually avoids. He doesn't know when to stop. How to stop. He keeps on pushing, keeps on shoving, until she's hit her breaking point.

Normally someone's spirit would shatter as a result of such abuse. But the vulnerable individual is strengthened by it. It keeps her spirit up. I may have said that she's dim and dull, but one thing that she isn't is a quitter. She never gives up, no matter what. Break her legs. She'll crawl. Break her arms. She'll roll. She'll always find a way. 

The abuse: she sees it as a challenge. An obstacle to overcome. The crutch is her cyanide. The crutch could kill her. The crutch will eventually kill her. She doesn't care, though. That's the joy of not giving a damn about anything. That's the joy of not being able to make up your mind. It can be made up for you. The danger thrills her. The danger hurts her. The pain ignites her emotion. The pain drives her. It's like her drug. 

She has fallen in love with this crutch.

Let's call the vulnerable girl Delilah.

Let's call the crutch Aeron.

Let me tell you a little story about myself.

A story of Aeron and his Delilah.