Shattered glass upon the floor,
Scattered stars in a silent war.
A silver moon in fractured light,
Reflects a girl—still, contrite.
Blood drips slow, a crimson thread,
A whisper of pain left unsaid.
Her gown untouched, yet something torn,
A perfect mask, now forlorn.
The night once bright, a golden dream,
Now broken whispers, unheard screams.
She sits among the mirror's fate,
A prisoner of silent weight.
The room was dark, save for the flickering candlelight. Shattered pieces of a mirror lay scattered across the floor, reflecting the slumped figure of a girl. Claire sat motionless, her face devoid of expression. Her gown remained immaculate, untouched by the chaos around her, yet something was off—her hand, resting limply on her lap, something was dripping. Blood seeped from a fresh cut on her palm, staining the pristine fabric.
As she stared at the broken fragments, her mind replayed the events of the evening. The same smiles, the same laughter, but now, stripped of illusion. Her inner voice whispered through the cracks of memory—exposing the truth behind the perfect facade.
"Why do they smile so easily? Is it real, or just another practiced performance?"
"Father's toast… Was that pride in his voice, or expectation chaining me tighter?"
"They call me radiant, graceful. Do they see me, or the reflection they wish to believe in?"
"Every step, every gesture—measured, rehearsed. Am I anything beyond this role?"
"I should feel something. Happiness Gratitude? Then why do I only feel... trapped?"
Then, a deeper realization settled in.
The world had long forgotten magic, dismissing it as nothing more than myth. But Claire knew better. Since her childhood, she had possessed a force she could neither explain nor escape. A gift—an ancestral inheritance—that became her burden.
She understood everything. Everyone. Nothing escaped her perception. The emotions of those around her, the unspoken fears, even the silent stirrings of nature and animals—she felt it all. It was a force meant to connect, yet it left her isolated.
How could she speak of something no one believed in? How could she confide in anyone when she herself did not understand it?
So she remained silent. Hiding. Pretending.
But tonight, something had shifted. And as she gazed into the fractured mirror, she knew—her silence would not last forever.