I look in the mirror and see two other girls staring back at me. They both look like me, but just different versions. We each have the same green eyes and a small nose. We each have long brown hair but it looks different on both of us. The pretty one's is shiny and has some curl to it, the other girl's is dirty and stringy, mine has a flip to it from me tucking it behind my ear all day. Our outfits are similar, but the pretty girl's hugs every curve while the other girl's is a little baggy and dirty.

I started seeing them when I was twelve after my innocence was stolen. Before that night, I was just a kid with the ability to laugh at anything. I never saw my flaws. I never wanted to be somebody else. Since that night I've struggled with the me I wish I was, the me I think I am and just who I am. I wish I could be like the pretty one, then maybe Eric wouldn't have cheated and left me. I wasted a year of my life on a man who clearly didn't love me. We were supposed to get married, that was the plan. We were both going to be twenty-five next year and we wanted a summer wedding. There was supposed to be a we.

I wipe my tears, but I can't remove the black stains of my mascara. Flashes of him leaving a few days ago slip through my walls. I remember throwing things at him and then just locking myself in the bathroom. Every feeling that I had pushed down over the years threatened to drown me. How could anybody want me, anyway? I am damaged beyond repair.

"What are you waiting for, just do it already." The pretty girl smirked at me with her hands on her hips. Her eyes were lit up in amusement at my struggle.

"I shouldn't need to do this." I stared into my own eyes. The eyes brimming with tears. The eyes bloodshot from all the restless nights.

The ugly girl just seemed to stare anywhere but me. Her arms were by her sides and her shoulders seemed to sag from the weight of her fear. The glimpse I managed to get of her eyes was blank.

"Oh please, cry me a river, princess. Just get this over with." The pretty girl pulled her hand closer to her face to inspect her nails. As if her manicure was the only important thing in the world.

"Stop being a little b****." She pulled a razor blade from behind her back and dangled it in front of me.

"Face it, nobody is ever going to love you, not after what you did." I shove my hands through my hair and bite back a scream.

"You're wrong." But even I didn't believe my words. I struggled to keep the memories at bay. The fear I felt that night had a vice grip on my heart. Showing the power it had then and the power it still had.

I grabbed the razor off the counter. I pulled it up my arm with light pressure, just enough to cause the skin to break a little. All the tension in my muscles immediately left. I felt my chest expand easier and my breaths started to even out. The memories faded away, like always.

"Don't we feel better now?" The pretty girl smiled as if we were best friends. There was blood seeping through the other girl's shirt, but she didn't even seem to notice. Completely numb to her own pain. My eyes were puffy and my hair was in knots. But I was alone once again. The cut stung as I washed it off. The more it stung the better I could breathe.

Shaking that night from my mind, I grab a brush and run it through my hair. I heat up the straightener with the hopes I can make my hair into something it's not. I clean up my eyes and attempt to redo my make-up. I grab my long sleeve black dress and head out the door. Hannah, my best friend since we were fifteen, had sent me a text that she was already at the club. She's been trying to get me to go out with her for weeks and I finally caved. I knew if I kept blowing her off she'd get suspicious. She's never been very observant, but she has her moments. I never told her about my childhood or my problem. I haven't even told her about Eric yet. She's my best friend, but she thinks I have my life together. I never want to change her opinion, so I keep my true feelings buried.

When I get past the door of the club, I start looking for Hannah. It doesn't take me long; she's grinding on some guy on the dance floor. Her hands are up around his neck and he has a leg in between her thighs. His hands rest on her ass, but he brings one up to cup the back of her head. He leans in to kiss her and she throws her head back so his mouth lands on her neck. She never was shy around a crowd.

Shaking my head, I start for the bar. If I'm going to be forced to watch Hannah's porno on the dance floor, I'm going to have to be drunk. I raise my hand to get the bartender's attention but he walks right past me. Jackass.

"You gotta be more aggressive if you want his attention."

I turn to find the voice and lose my will to speak for a moment. The guy is dressed in dark wash jeans, a white t-shirt and a black blazer. Simple, but definitely working for him. His brown hair is short on the sides and long on the top, which he has styled to swoop back. He has some scruff on his face and it's making his blue eyes pop. He's sitting in the chair next to me, holding his drink just inches from his lips. He's grinning, facing the bar, but glancing out of the corner of his eyes at me.

"Maybe I'm not the aggressive type," I say as I turn my body to face him.

He puts his glass back on the bar and looks directly at me, "Well, that would be a damn shame."

"Is that so?" I put my hand on my hip and smile at him.

"I'm Blaine." He puts his hand out for me to shake it.

I slip my hand in his. "Rae."

The bartender chooses this moment to acknowledge my presence. "Did you need to order, miss?"

"Can I get a shot of Patron, please?"

He sets the shot glass in front of me, pours, grabs a lime slice, and sticks it on the rim. I hand him the money and pick up the glass. I knock it back, resisting the urge to cough as I bite hard into the lime.

"Not aggressive, huh?" He has one eyebrow raised and has his head cocked to the side.

"I— "

"Rae! You came!" Hannah throws her arms over my shoulders and I stumble back from the weight. I turn my head away from her alcohol-stained breath.

"I told you I was going to, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I never know with you. Who's your friend here?" She cuts her eyes from me to him and her eyes get that mischievous sparkle to them.

"Hannah, Blaine. Blaine, Hannah." I slide her arms off me and hold my glass up for the bartender to see.

"Well, aren't you just a dream." She puts her hand on his arm and giggles.

I turn away from them to see that my glass is refilled. Knocking it back again, I turn to see Hannah just inches from Blaine. She's twirling her long blonde hair around her finger and leaning forward so he gets a nice view of her low cut dress. Jealousy starts to cloud my vision.

"Hey Hannah, what happened to that guy I saw you making out with earlier?"

She looks at me sideways and her smile falls. "I don't know, Rae. We didn't exactly come here together."

"I see." I leave to go to the bathroom, not that they seem to notice. The bathroom is unusually empty, so I rest my hands on the sink and stare at my reflection.

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" The pretty girl leans against a stall door with her arms crossed. I ignore her and stare into the mirror as if it could actually change me.

"You are so pathetic, he's way out of your league." I grimace at her truth. Blaine's attention focused on Hannah like she was the last woman on Earth.

The ugly girl still stands off to the side, just trying not to be noticed. The pretty girl steps forward so her face is just inches from the mirror. Pats the skin under her eyes and her lips. Checking to make sure all her make-up is still runway ready. She pulls mascara out of her back pocket. Her mouth opens slightly as she swipes the wand across her lashes.

"To get a guy like him, you would have to be me and we both know that's not possible for you." She smiles at her reflection and then looks at me.

"I don't want to be like you." My words come out in a mumble so low that even I barely hear them. But I know she hears. She always hears me.

"Oh Hun, we both know that's not true." She puts lip gloss on her lips and smashes them together before she pops them open.

I pull at the skin around my eyes, run my fingers through my hair and pull it across my shoulders.

"No amount of primping is going to make him see past Hannah, but nice try, though." She fluffs her perfect curls.

I leave the bathroom only to find Hannah and Blaine on the dance floor. Hannah has always been pretty and I've always just been me. When we were in high school I was fine with being in her shadow because I wasn't ready to be in any spotlight. Then college came and I couldn't get out of her shadow. We already had the ways of our friendship, I couldn't ask them to be changed out of the blue without explanation. I just wanted somebody to look at me and think I was just as good as her, if not better. That I was special and worth spending time with. It was a miracle I managed to find Eric, well it was a miracle at the time I thought.

Hannah sees me over Blaine's shoulder, fans her face and mouth's "Oh my god". I give her a thumbs up and head for the bar. Signaling for the bartender I get another shot. The third one does the trick because I'm starting to get dizzy. I ask for another and he raises an eyebrow as if to ask, "Are you sure?"

I nod my head and tilt the shot back. I see my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The pretty girl smirks in the chair beside me. I slam the glass down and make a not-so-graceful exit. I hail a taxi and slide in. Resting my head against the window I give the driver my address. I watch the buildings and lights go by in a blur. We get to my apartment complex and I stumble up to the third floor.

Letting myself in, I lock the door and make my way to the bathroom. I hug the toilet regretting the last shot I did. My mind drifts to that night again without permission. I see the room from that night, the dim lights peeking through the pillow over my face. Before the memory can get too far, I throw up until I can't anymore. I lean away and lay down on the floor, placing my face against the cold tile. I close my eyes and try to breathe, but it feels like my chest is being squeezed by the past. I hear my phone vibrating on the floor. It's a text from Hannah saying that Blaine invited her back to his place. I slide my phone away without responding. I can't really be mad at her considering she doesn't know what's been going on with me. That's on me.

I pull myself up to sit against the wall and I lean my head back.

"How could anybody want you? You're tainted." The b**** runs her fingers through her hair, pulling the ends to frame her face.

Her comment sparks the images of that night into my mind again. I shake my head and pull the roots of my hair to try to forget. But nothing ever gets them out once they are back in. It's like a bad movie and none of the buttons on my remote work. I remember the laughing and the fun that preceded it. He was babysitting me while my mom was away on business.

It was dark and we were wrestling. It was nothing different for us. But the fun died down and I grew sleepy. Then he offered a massage. I was only twelve years old and didn't know what to say. I laid on my stomach with my head under the pillow; too afraid to watch. It started out fine, rubbing my shoulders and back, but it didn't end there. He touched places where he shouldn't and I didn't say anything.

I scream out my frustration and let the sobs escape my body.

"That's right, you didn't say anything. You could have been a brave girl and fought back. But you didn't. It's your fault." I look up at her and she has her arms crossed while she smiles down at me.

"You think someone like Blaine could ever see past that? Eric never did, so why should he?" She laughs so hard she doubles over and holds her sides.

"I can't do this… I won't listen to you anymore."

"If you don't want to listen to me, then why do you want to be like me? You're in this little meltdown of yours because you can't be like me." Her arms are crossed and she has all her weight on one leg, tapping her other foot.

"If you weren't such a screw up then may—"

I slam my fist into the mirror, and it cracks.

"Shut up!" I scream at her until I can't scream anymore. I lean against the wall and slide down. Then fold my arms over my knees and sob.

I hear her voice echoing on the bathroom walls, "God, more tears? What are we crying about this time? Our lack of, well everything?" I glance up at the mirror. The b**** is leaning down looking at me. The other is huddled away from her. Never engaging.

The b***** taps on the fractured mirror, "You gonna keep being a cry baby? We all have better things to do than wait for you to make a move. Well, I do at least. Knowing you, you probably don't."

I pull on my hair and grit my teeth.

"Still waiting."

I close my eyes.

"You're so pathetic."

She laughs. I cover my head with my arms.

"It's just as well, you could never be like me. You have a better chance at being like her."

I open my eyes and study the other girl. She's got dark circles under her vacant eyes. She never focuses on anything too long. Her short sleeve shirt is three sizes too big and her sweats have stains on them.

I dig for the razor in my pocket. Holding it up, turning it over and over. I could cut deep enough this time to bleed out the memories. I'll never remember again. I'll never feel like this again. The b**** smirks. The other girl stops moving altogether. Bracing my arm on my knee I place the cold metal against my skin.

"NO!" The other girl bangs against the mirror. The b**** laughs. Tears stream down our faces. I drag the blade against my arm and feel the burn of the cold steel. Blood pools slowly. Streaking across my arm. I lean my head back and breathe. Blood smears the mirror, but she keeps banging. She keeps trying.

"You'll have to do more than that if you want them to go away forever." Always laughing. Always pushing.

The other girl places both fists on the mirror. "Don't. Don't hurt us. It's not worth all this. It's not your fault."

I hold the razor up again. Glaring at it like it's the cause of all my problems. I grip it, hard. Blood drips out of my fist. I stare up at the other girl and our eyes lock.

"Stop." She whispers. I throw the razor away. It has no power over me anymore.

I pull myself up. The broken reflection is hardly recognizable, but it's me. Just me.