Conform.

That svelte figure in the mirror glared at her, daring her to challenge. That appliqué face stiffled her personality, forcing it to remain a secret forever walking in the dark, Though toward her or away, she wasn't sure and not knowing this, was enough to make her almost expectant. She felt that insatiable surge of indebted fixation, gazing at the frame she squeezed into a size zero. She was an empty shell. A prop in her own life. A cut out design sewn onto a piece of material a living, breathing, cliche. Her patience was flirting with disaster as her hope, well, her hope knew no distance but her resolve? Yeah, that was diluting with the breaking midnight sun. Opening her eyes every morning was her own hand-crafted purgatory. "DO YOU EVEN HAVE AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT?" She hated how often her conscience bellowed this at her. While the shame dewing at the surface of the remembrance of leading that total stranger to the point where it could hurt her the most knowing how easily it'd be able to find it's way back up that trail to devestation, was like chewing on pearls She thought her individuality would never function the same, but before this mirror, she picked up the pieces and made it into something that could breath SHE could breath here. Accepting her limitations and working within them, she settled for standing there studying her features, searching, for any part of her she recognized at all. Committing them to memory.