She looked for a long into the mirror.She found herself resembling a porcelain doll,the false lashes adding seduction to her eyes.She admired the way she looked perfect..beautiful like a film star. But somehow she felt her skin calling for a breath behind the layers of makeup.She hated it that she had to go through routine torture of shaping her eyebrows,stripping off all unwanted hair of her legs. That’s what everyone expected of her..being like a lady. Why is it that she is trying to be like how others want to see her?
A tissue was all that she needed to take away the junk out of her face.Once again she looked at herself in the mirror.Now she felt as if she finally saw herself in it..not any filmstar or any beautiful stranger.She loved the way how her dusky skin looked with the fading scars and spots.She thought it added a strange beauty..an identity to her face.She walked with heads high ignoring the whispers of the crowd..afterall when it was her heart that was calling her beautiful how does those whispers even matter?