The Fantasy Designer

Brown eyes, 

Black hair. 

Heart-shape lip, 

Unnerving stare.

 

A young woman looks back at the mirror, confused. 

The long waves of her hair are cut to her shoulders, 

Her eyes empty and lost. 

She sees a child, 

equally confused yet darkly styled with black eye-liner.

 

At thirteen, 

the girl was nothing, 

someone the young woman thought would never amount to something. 

 

Angry, 

Stubborn. 

Hurt, 

Misunderstood.

 

The young woman changed, she fought for the good. 

 

Emma, that is her name. 

 

The young woman smiles at her reflection, 

Gazing at the once hated freckles across the bridge of the girl's nose, 

Witnessing dreams flicker and grow inside her eyes. 

 

She is a future pulsing in the present, 

Strong, 

Couragous, 

Victorious. 

 

Emma stares at the young woman,

Perplexed.

Dreams did not die in her future,

Instead they had thrived.

 

A fantasy designer,

Her eyes close only to peek back open to look back at mirror.

The young woman vanished and in her place stands she.  

 

Emma.

She knows she will change. 

 

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