The Twin in the Mirror I catch a quick look at myself in the mirror and linger longer there than I originally intended. I can't help it- the glass seems to hold my soul captive and my eyes won't turn away from it. Not that I'd want to. No, there's something about mirrors that makes me want to stare into them all day. But then I remember that I don't have all day. I have maybe five seconds- tops -to try and catch the bus. Otherwise it's hitch-hiking to school for me. I tear my gaze away from the captivating glass and run outside, to just arrive at the bustop the same time the bus does. I sigh as I take a seat and realize that I forgot my half-written English paper on my desk. Never mind that it was only half-written; I could have at least gotten half credit for it. Now all I'll get is a zero. Everything I seem to do lately has wound up half-finished. My focus has gone; it's wandered off to strange, faraway, exotic places without me. And without it, I can't seem to finish anything. English papers? Nope. History reports? Not a chance. That story I've been working on for nearly two years now? Probably will never get finished. And as a result I'm listless and bored most of the time. Why bother starting something that will never be completd? The school comes within sight now. A big, ugly brick prison, it stands as a reminder of all my recent failures and shortcomings and makes me shudder with disgust. The bus pulls to a stop in the circle, and I get up and walk into another day in hell. I get through my morning classes just as I always do- by daydreaming. Except today, I don't daydream about anything in particular or stay on one topic like I usually do. I hop around, wherever my thoughts seem to lead me. This seems wrong and leaves me feeling a bit off. Finally seventh period rolls around, but at a time when normally I would be perfectly happy to sit and eat and talk with friends, I feel only this restlessness within my soul. It makes me wander around the corridors until the second bell rings, when the hall monitor asks me politely to proceed to my next class. I think about telling her not to worry, that I'm just missing lunch, but for some reason I don't open my mouth to speak. So I head to my locker and get my lunch, but before I can reach the cafeteria, I decide to step into the bathroom and gather my thoughts. I'm not in the mood to try and make nice conversation with artificial people. The bathroom is completely devoid of all life save myself. How unusual. Normally it's crammed with pushy people trying to get into a stall to smoke or trying to get in front of one of the mirrors to apply more cakey makeup. Yet today, there is no one in here. I put my things down on the ground and head for the sink to wash my hands. As I rub the waxy soap between my hands, I look up into the mirror and am caught again. I stare for a long enough time that I lose track of how long I've been staring, moving this way and that to admire one thing or another. My hair is first- the way it moves uniformly, and the way the light hits it, highlighting parts and placing in shadow others. My eyes come next. I could spend days just looking into my eyes- the irises are such an unusual colour, and next to the darkness of my pupils, they look so light. Then I study my nose and, finally, my lips. I only stop studying myself when someone tries to tear me away from my reflection, my twin in the mirror. I shout until my throat becomes hoarse, and fight to get back to the mirror. I succeed, but only until whoever tried the first time comes back with three other people. They subdue me, overpower me, and lead me away from the mirror. I try to break free from their grasps, but I fail. Ripped away from the faraway place where my focus has fled, I barely notice my surroundings. Someone's trying to talk to me with a nice, soothing voice, and it does help to stop me from rocking back and forth on the chair that they've placed me on, but it can't bring me back from my half-formed thoughts. How do you catch a unicorn? I can't remember the answer. I think maybe the soothing voice is telling me, but I doubt it. Why am I asking myself how to catch a unicorn? The answer doesn't come to me now. Years later, after I have been diagnosed semi-catatonic, I will remember that you catch a unicorn by placing it in front of a mirror. It cannot help looking at its twin in the mirror, marvelling over how graceful and lithe it is. When I realize this, I will snap out of this semi-catatonic state that I have been living in for years and recognize myself for what my soul really is. I never would have seen my soul for what it really was, had it not been for the mirror. After all, the only way to recognize the soul's true nature is to see its twin in the mirror.