Everyone has smelled the aroma of freshly baked cookies, tasted the warm, gooey dessert melt in your mouth. Everyone has heard birds chirp outside and felt grass tickle their toes, sunshine on your back, water around your feet, a breeze rustle your hair–I’ve never experienced this. The rush of adrenaline as you ski down a mountain as fast as your legs will take you, the breathtaking experience of soaring over the tracks on a rollercoaster, the smell of another room even–I can’t say I know what any of this is like. For my entire life, I’ve been in the same place, same people, same sounds, same smell, and it all began eighteen short years ago.
It was early in the morning, the sun just beginning to peek up behind the trees when I heard a cry of agony from the room nextdoor. It was so loud and piercing that I wished I could cover my ears. Of course, I knew this was coming eventually, but it was too soon. Three months too soon. Though I couldn’t see through the closed door, I could hear Mr. and Mrs. Charleston rushing around frantically downstairs. Mrs. Charleston had been pregnant for almost six months now, and her stomach was nearly the size of an exercise ball. I guess it was an okay time for the twins to come into the world. After all, their room was painted, blue blankets in cribs, picture frames on the wall. I sat atop the small dresser full of tiny clothes and diapers. From there, I had a comfortable view of every wall, and the large window. I looked out the window just in time to see the Charleston’s red car back out of the driveway and speed down the road.
I sat in silence for a long second, my eyes grazing over the finished baby room, scanning over the whale bedspread and baby blue walls. It was only two days and three short hours later when the Charlestons returned. I expected to see two baby boys when the door to my room cracked open. Instead, the father held a blue bundle of joy in his arms, and the mother trailed after him cradling a child of her own. This baby was bundled up in a pink blanket. I looked again, just to make sure I had seen right. Yes, it was a girl. The Charlestons had already chosen names for their baby boys: Elliott and Samuel. Did they grab the wrong child? Maybe it was the classic baby swap where the parents get the cribs mixed up and bring home the wrong kid. Mrs. Charleston set the girl in one of the blue cribs, tucking the blankets around her frail little body.
“There you go, Lily.”
Lily? I took a long, hard look at this tiny little bundle of pink. She was the smallest human being I’d ever seen, the blanket much too large for her short legs. She yawned and I immediately felt my chest swell. That’s the day I fell in love. Fair skin, dark hair, and bright blue eyes, she was by far the prettiest baby I’d ever seen–granted, I hadn’t seen very many children in my lifetime.
The mom smiled and stood, glancing over at her husband. “We should let them rest.”
He gave her a loving look. “No, we should let you rest. I’ll stay here with them.”
She gave a weak smile and headed for the door. She stopped. “Thank you.” And just like that, Elliott and Lily came into the world. I had never seen any two human beings be closer, though behind the surface, behind the laughs and cries, the smiles and frowns, I could see what was actually going on, and let me just tell you, everything isn’t how it seems.
**************
I could tell the day was going to be warm from the moment the sun rose above the tall treetops, its vibrant colors poured out across the sky like spilled milk. A soft breeze rustled the leaves on the trees, but the wind was another thing I had never felt.
The sky was still partially dark when Lily’s alarm rang loudly. She moaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow up over her head. The monotone buzzing continued for a good minute before she threw her hand over it carelessly, silencing its cry.
Another five minutes or so passed and there was no response from Lily, though I was about to cry out to her. It was the first day of high school and she was already late. Any longer and she would miss the bus. The alarm sounded again, this time louder and more piercing.
Lily rolled over and opened her eyes, squinting and yawning. It took her a moment before she realized the time, then a second later, she jumped out of bed and turned on the light. From my place, I could hear her frantically brushing her teeth, sprinting over to her closet.
She fingered through the assortment of dresses and shirts, groaning at what she thought was a lack of choices. In reality, she probably had more clothes than they sell in Macy’s. Settling on a floral dress, she slipped it over her head and pulled at it, examining herself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. Frowning, she slid it off and put on a flowy white shirt and lace shorts.
“Elliott, why didn’t you wake me up?!” She yelled at her door.
A moment later, he cracked the door open, his hair in a blond mess atop his head. “So it’s my job to wake you now? Forgive me, I’ll try better next time.”
Bowing, he shut the door and Lily let out a sigh of exasperation, staring herself down. After a long pause, she came over to me and looked. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took deep breaths, biting her lip. She shook her head at me and turned away. My heart was pounding. A frown creased her pretty face as she slipped on a pair of socks.
“I’m getting in the car, Ugly Duckling.” Elliott yelled from downstairs.
Lily grabbed her backpack from where it rested on her desk and sighed, muttering. “Just cause I’m not your twin brother doesn’t mean I’m ugly.”
She threw the door open and exited my room, her footsteps thundering down the stairs and out the door. I heard the car engine murmur quietly, then watched as they sped out of the driveway and down the cul de sac.
Elliott had nicknamed Lily the ‘Ugly Duckling’ of the family when they were young. Lily was supposed to be a boy, tall, blond hair, brown eyes, just like Elliott. Instead, Lily was a short, dark haired girl, with pale skin and bright blue eyes. The fact that she was constantly asked if she was adopted didn’t help. The nickname Ugly Duckling didn’t just earn her a title from her brother, but a title from herself.
Being called ugly every day doesn’t do much for your self esteem, especially in our world where the media claims that your identity is based on looks. That’s the reality Lily was faced with. Though she was very beautiful, she didn’t embrace it, but chose to look at herself with disdain. Lily was a lovely human through and through, from the cut of her hair to the tenderness of her heart. She was humble, kind, respectful, honest, loyal; you name it, she was it.
You could tell by the way she constantly fixed her clothing, hair, and the little bit of makeup she slathered on her face that she wasn’t content with her image. Beauty magazines that sat upon her bedside table always had the same looking cover: a tall, skinny, blonde, perfectly edited model. Their face had no blemishes, no imperfections, no reality. Their bodies were perfectly slim, to the point where it looked as if they hadn’t eaten in a year. Their hair was always set just the right way, blonde and beautiful.
Lily, just a couple months before, had tried to dye her hair blonde, and had turned her hair red for nearly a month. Lesson learned. She never felt quite right in the family–like she had to be a certain way to be like her parents and Elliott. If only she could just see herself as I saw her.
**************
It seemed like just minutes passed before Elliott and Lily returned home, their car making a rumbling noise as Mrs. Charleston drove into the garage and turned off the engine. It was only a few more seconds before Lily ran upstairs and threw her backpack across the room.
I looked in dismay at the beautiful girl with tears trickling down her cheeks as she collapsed onto her bed, sobs heaving her small frame. It was only a few minutes later when a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Lil?” Elliott’s muffled voice said from behind the door.
“Go away.” She cried quietly.
Despite her response, he cracked the door open, his usually teasing eyes now full of care and compassion for his little sister. He walked across the room quietly and sat down beside her on the bed, putting one arm around her.
“Don’t believe what they said.” He cooed, stroking her hair gently.
She leaned into him, her head in her hands. I wondered what happened. Who said what? Was it at school. “I have a hard time not believing it. They’re right.”
Elliott shook his head. “Look at me.” Lily looked up, her eyes full of tears, her cheeks red. “None of what those stupid girls said is true. Never believe it, okay?”
She nodded, though it was not convincing at all. “They’re right though, Elliott! They told me I was ugly and that’s what you’ve called me for years–”
“Hey!” He interrupted. “I was never serious, Lil. It’s like you calling me dumb. It was just sibling-to-sibling teasing, right?”
She smiled and giggled, saying hesitantly. “Right…”
He shook his head and hit her lightly on the arm. “Okay, okay, now’s not the time to embarrass your brother. But I guess right now it’s okay, but only because of the circumstances.”
Lily laughed quietly and looked at me. It took just a second for her face to go from delighted to dejected. She shook her head and looked back at Elliott. “It’s easy for you to say it’s not true–you’ve always been told you fit in. You’ve never felt out of place. You’ve never been told you’re ugly.”
“How do you know? Part of it comes with gender. Girls tend to be harsher with their words. I know they don’t mean it, they can’t. I mean, look at you! Chances are, they’re super jealous of you and they have to make you feel bad somehow because they don’t want you to know how perfect you are. Guys just punch each other and call it good. The world of girls is one that’s complicated and will never be really known to mankind.”
She chuckled. “Look at you, the girl expert.”
He laughed. “Well it comes with having a little twin sister. You learn quite a bit. Look, you’re not ugly, you’re gorgeous. You’re smart, sweet, kind, thoughtful, and a long list of other things. Whoever doesn’t see that doesn’t know what they’re missing.”
They embraced, holding each other close and in that moment, nothing else seemed more perfect. Who would call Lily ugly and not perfect? In my eyes, she was the prettiest person to walk the earth–and it was obvious that Elliott felt the same way.

Before long, it was the twins’ sixteenth birthday, a day I will never forget. It began with Lily being awakened for school at six in the morning by her mother bringing her breakfast. She ate quickly and got ready for school, awaiting her long day. It may have started out boring, but after sitting through eight hours of learning and social stress, she got to get her license. That’s all she’d talked about for the past three weeks, and it was finally happening.
I sat and awaited her arrival at home. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was already seven o’clock and there had been no sound of the garage door opening or excited squeals from Lily as she proudly showed off her license to her parents.
Eight o’clock passed and the house was silent.
Nine.
Ten.
I began to worry. Why weren’t they home? The Charlestons usually came home from work at five, but five hours had passed since then and they hadn’t returned. Something was wrong, I could sense it.
Just then, the phone rang, its piercing shriek startling me. Finally the ringing ceased and a voicemail took its place. “Andrea,”–that was Mrs. Charleston’s name– “This is Karen. I heard about Lily and Elliott and I’m so sorry! If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
What happened to Lily and Elliott?! I became frantic, wishing I could move and run to them. Something happened, I knew it. I could sense it from the moment the clock struck six.
The sun hid for a long period of time, the moon casting a beam of light across Lily’s room. It was eerie without the constant droning of the fan and soft breathing coming from underneath the covers. Shadows danced across the floor as trees outside the window swayed in the wind. Ah, how I long to feel the wind on my face.
One in the morning passed, then two, and before I knew it, it was six in the morning. At this time, Lily would usually wake up to prepare for school. The loss was like a heavy burden, her lack of presence for one day making me lonely.
**************
It must have been a week or so later when I finally saw the familiar car roll into the driveway, the comforting sound of the garage doors opening beneath me filling my ears. My heart pounded and I couldn’t wait for Lily to come upstairs.
But instead of joyous celebration of being home, I heard the deafening silence below me, mixed with the metallic sound of steel against the wood. Then, thuds up the stairs, followed by the metal clanking.
There was a pause at the top of the stairs, a charged silence, a heavy sigh, then I saw her. Lily rolled into her room in a wheelchair, her leg held firmly in a cast. But that wasn’t what I noticed. What I noticed was her face.
What happened?!
Lily had a long scar running from her eyebrow to her chin, fresh stitches barely holding it together. She had a dark bruise around one eye, and multiple scratches scattered across her face like stars.
“So I guess driving’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She said in a hoarse voice, lifting herself onto the bed gently out of the chair that held her down and shaking her head. “You could be the best driver in the world and some other person will still make a stupid mistake.”
A silent question was on my lips, but I didn’t dare say it. She looked at me, as if anticipating my question. “You’re just there to mock me. All you’re doing is reflecting something I don’t want to see.”
Tears brimmed in her bright eyes as she shook her head. “I’ll never be anything. I was barely acceptable before and just look at me! I look like...I look…I am so flawed now.”
“You aren’t flawed.” I replied.
She shook her head vigorously. “No, I am! Who will ever want me? All I am now is that girl with the broken leg and the scar on her face. Will I ever be anything more? The doctor said if I’m lucky this will heal like normal. Only if I’m lucky. If not, I may be crippled forever and you know what that means? A label. People put labels on me all the time: nice, funny, sweet, or whatever. No, now my label is: cripple–or even worse–flawed.”
“You’re not flawed.” I repeated.
I let her look into me for a long moment, noticing her brow creasing as she studied me. She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m nothing.”
I hesitated, whispering quietly. “Maybe the label you have is one you put on yourself.”
She stared at me hard, taking my silent words in for a second and for a moment, just one, fleeting second, I thought I saw a smile creep across her face. “But I’m not perfect. I never was.”
“You don’t have to be the world’s definition of perfect to be perfect in my eyes.” I whispered softly. “Perfect doesn’t mean pretty and without flaws. Perfect is being the best you you can be.”
She pursed her lips, looking at me and frowning, then letting a smile crease her lips upward. It was that moment that I saw something in her eyes, something I had wanted to see since the moment she was born. Right then, she looked...proud, happy.
At that moment in time, everything stopped and I could see that she finally saw herself as perfect–scars and all. It didn’t have anything to do with me, though. That feeling was all her. After all, I’m just her reflection, just the image of herself that she can see for what she really looks like. The shattered image she pictured when she looked at me was slowly mending. I thought I could see her for who she really was. After all, I was just her reflection. But what do I know, I’m just a mirror.