Broken

 She hates looking at him, this seemingly pleasant presenter of information. He serves only to stifle any attempt at change. He does so by promising, instead, to provide the motivation she desperately needs. LYING JERK! And he lies in the worst way, by telling the unabashed truth. 

It is really unnerving how he operates. He sucks her in under the guise of friendly advice. He has been around for as long as she can remember, like an old family friend who's always there, so unassuming, all the while luring her deeper and deeper under his spell. 

He helped her to learn how to drive. She was so excited and anxious. She listened intently to everything he told her, becoming obsessed with what he said. His endless advice proved dangerously distracting. That's what really caused the accident. But, as usual, she blamed herself and he just stood there, looking innocent, almost inanimate. 

She remembers the fun times they had when they were younger. How they would mouth the words to pop tunes and dance together, how she would make faces at him, and how he would give her fashion tips. He even helped her pick out her prom dress. 

But now the paradigm has shifted. Now she can see beyond his lying surface as his sick motivations become even clearer. Now she recognizes that every fond memory she has where he is doing something good, he was only pulling her further in, solidifying his absolute control over her. 

She sees it now. She sees how utterly dependent she has become. She sees how she hasn't gone a day in her life without consulting him at least once, usually more than once and always willingly. She sees how he has stolen her confidence. It's almost as if he absorbs her self-image and regurgitates it back to her all distorted and rank. And she buys it every time. 

Looking at him now she realize that his antics have rubbed off on her. She sees herself doing to others what he has done to her. She looks and judges and compares and critiques offering both scorn and praise without ever saying a word to the object of her appraisal. Now when people are reflected in her eyes, she can't simply see them as people. She sees good people or bad people, pretty or ugly people. People she wants to be like or people she's glad she's not. 

But she is not as heartless as he is. She rarely lets her subjects in on her thoughts, unlike him. It's almost as if he can't not tell someone what he thinks about them. She certainly doesn't manipulate people into thinking her opinion is true as he does. She never picked up his ability to turn whispers into screams and vice versa. Nevertheless, his influence is still clear. And she does it for the same reason.  Control!

She hates him, now that she can see him for what he is. She replays what he has said over the years. What originally appeared to be thoughts of encouragement and hope, she now hears them for what they are: guttural utterances reiterating the mistakes of her past and reveling in the failures of her present. He's always killed her future. 

Standing there with him, toe to toe, she knows what George Washington must have felt when he looked at portraits of King George-knowing that the king had all of the power. She is outmatched, the fight is unwinnable, but it is a fight she has to fight. She, too, is fed up with her oppressive and tyrannous dictator. 

Finally it becomes too much for her to handle She pulls her arm back. Clenching her fingers, her hatred oozes out between her tightening fist. Staring into his strikingly familiar eyes she screams as she punches him in the face.

As she draws back her bloody hand, she sees in his eyes all of his lies broken and shattered. She knows it will be awhile before she will be completely out from under his spell, but this peace is the beginning. She now understands that in order to recover from a lie, she must recognize it, as such, and that true truth, while not always kind and easy, will never misguide her. She knows it will be hard for her to trust again, but she is ready to begin to learn how. 

She feels better, empowered, and even free. She smiles as she cleans up the broken mirror, singing quietly to herself as she secretly throws it away.