Hello, friends! I have another flash fiction for you today. Actually, it has a very similar theme to this poem I wrote a few months ago! I hope you enjoy it.:)
The girl stares back at me blankly. Arms crossed, lips resting in a sullen droop. Unconvinced. Waiting for me to say more.
I hesitate, then take a breath. “How can you expect to be understood when all you’ll give them is a false front?”
“It’s safer this way.” She swallows and breaks eye contact, studying the linoleum.
“Maybe.” I stare at her and she stares back, chocolate eyes pooling with tears. “But… don’t you want people to know who you truly are?”
“Yeah, but…” she pauses, and a tear falls from her lower eyelid. Her toe traces circles on the floor.
I wait. I know her well enough to know that she’ll talk when she’s ready. And she does.
“My story isn’t worth knowing.”
“That’s not true… every story’s worth knowing.”
“Mine isn’t.” Another tear splashes onto her dusty foot.
“But… what if… other people have stories like yours? And they need to know they’re not alone?” I wrap my arms around myself. “What if you’re the one who needs to let them know that?”
Silence aches on for several moments. I can hear her breathing… deep, searching breaths facing down near-terror. She watches more tears paint damp circles on her toes.
“Okay.” She sniffs and blinks, her fist smearing tears on her face. “I won’t keep hiding.”
I nod and turn away from the mirror.