Skin Deep

For a moment I swear I see a specter, a ghost in the mirror that was once me. The me, twenty some years earlier, when I was young and beautiful, wanted by every magazine and runway from New York to Paris.

I blink and rub my eyes.

Now, the image staring at me is the one I see everyday. An older woman with bags under her eyes, my glowing skin gone, replaced by age spots and wrinkles. Hair limp, lacking luster. But what should anyone expect to see from a woman who is approaching fifty and pushing a hundred and forty pounds. No longer chosen to walk in the limelight of fashion. Reduced to the odd photo shoot for mature women website magazines.

I sometimes wonder if it wouldn't have been better to dress in the most perfect outfit, sip on a nice Argentinian Malbec, swallow a few pills and call it a night, a farewell swan song. Chuckling to myself, knowing full well I couldn’t do it. I get nauseous from pills and faint at the sight of blood.

Besides, my manager texted me earlier saying he had news, I believe he found me a job. That was four days ago.

My phone will ring soon, I can feel it.

I just wanted to relax in a bubble bath and drink a little wine to celebrate. The waiting made me tense, so I took a BZD, to help calm me. I don’t normally do drugs, but my manager got these for me, telling me to take it, hopefully it’ll help get my head straight and maybe lose some weight.

Instead, I see an image teasing me of who I used to be, mocking me. Only to have it disappear before I can appreciate the beauty I once was. Wiping the steam off the mirror, hoping to erase this 'now' version of me, wanting the younger me back again. Instead, my image smiles and beckons me to come closer. I see me, yet I know it is not me. As I question my sanity she begins to speak.

In a sarcastic voice she whispers. 'Hello beautiful, so glad your back.'

I reply with an equally elegant statement. "Fuck off."

Reaching over I grab the second bottle of wine, refill my glass, and take a long swig.

'Is that any way to greet someone who has come here to rejuvenate your career?'

Intrigued I ask. "How?"

'Oh, I have secrets darling, deep secrets that I think it's time to share with you.'

Skepticism oozes out of me, but curiosity is stronger. "You have my attention, go on."

'I've been here a long-time baby, and every image before me has been captured. The essence of you is locked away waiting to be released.'

I sip on my red, inhaling the heavily lavender scent that hangs in the air. Wrestling with, 'want versus reality'.

My image notices my hesitation and entices me by saying. ‘Perhaps not today, you do not appear ready. Maybe I'll return when you are willing.’

My heart quickens. “No.”

I swear I see a smile. ‘No?’ Softly she repeats. 'Shall I release her?'

With barely a whisper I say. "Yes."

Downing my wine, I pour one more glass, for courage.

'First dim the lights and bring those candles here.'

Retrieving the scented candles from around the tub, I place them on the marble counter just under the mirror. Still naked, I shudder at my reflection. Noticing the process of ageing, the once tight skin now has wrinkles when I bend over, my breast, though firm are not as perky as they once were. Probably because I didn’t have children. A regret I live with everyday.

My agent said they would only suck the life out of me and took care of everything. After we saw that Doctor, I was ill for weeks, my insides felt torn and shredded, but it was the hollowness that hurt the most. I felt like an empty vessel.

I guess he was correct, many of my peers dropped out to raise families of their own, most of them never returned to their former glory. While I continued to be busy.

Until I wasn’t.

People say I look amazing, and for a mere moment I feel alive. They don’t say it, but I know they mean ‘for my age.’

I am nervous, but excitement courses through my body. Opening the lid, I pop another BZD, washing it down with a little more Beaujolais to help me relax.

I am ready.

My Image leans in, I too lean forward, we are inches from each other.

'Open the mirror wings.’ She commands.

I open the sides, angling them so I see the triple reflection. In a moment the side mirrors waver, blurring in and out until I see the images that were the younger me on both sides, and my true older self in front.

All three images are silent.

I am waiting for the transformation to happen. Hesitantly I ask. "Do we chant a spell or something."

My image pulls back with a puzzled expression. 'What? No, this isn't some mirror, mirror on the wall bullshit. Focus.'

"Ok, sorry. What do I do?"

Leaning forward once more she says. 'Reach out to the sides with both hands and touch your younger self, keep your eyes on me at all times.'

With both arms stretching out, my fingers grace the cool glass, I instantly feel my soft skin. Pure youth. My nose, the velvet cheeks that were once mine. My fingers feel an energy course through the tips.

'Now, touch your face with your fingers, pull back those wrinkles.'

I do as she asks and begin to pull on my cheeks.

'Now, repeat this with your neck, reclaim your beauty.'

Doing so, I can feel my skin tighten, rejuvenate. The more I repeat this process the old me in the mirror gets younger. Gone are the droopy cheeks, gone is the turkey neck. I quickly press my fingers to my eyes, the bags disappear. I dare a glance at the two younger me images. They are turning older, no longer young vibrant women. But me in the middle is becoming beautiful again. I try hard to contain a smile.

I continue this process, over and over.

'Now the hair, lets revitalize those locks.' She coos

I caress my youthful locks in the side mirror, stroking the rich vital strands.

'Now tug on your hair, twist, pull to lengthen it.' The image requests.

I do so, feeling the pull on my scalp, sharp growing pains. I know my hair is becoming longer, lusher. The twisting adds body and curls. I am becoming young again.

The side mirror images hair is thinning, falling out. While in front of me I see gorgeous tendrils of hair

I celebrate with another sip, a little taken back by the cheap metallic taste of the wine.

Soon, people will wonder how I remain so young. Have I discovered the fountain of youth? Laughing, I cry out. "No, I discovered the mirror of youth."

'You're Gorgeous, an absolute beauty. Now, use the miracle cream, it will dissolve and burn off that unwanted and useless flab.'

For a moment I am confused as I notice a container in my hand, one I do not recall picking up or recognize. Opening the top, I generously lather the cream all over me. Instantly my body tingles. I am vibrant and alive, young blood flowing through my entire body. I feel the pounds melting away. It is wonderous.

Like a child, I twirl around in delight.

'No, keep your eyes on me.' I hear my image cry, anger in her tone.

Stopping. My back to the mirror, I am lightheaded and dizzy. I may have consumed to much wine. The room continues to spin as I begin to shake, my vision is blurry. Reaching for a towel I wipe the perspiration from my eyes. My perfect white towel is now red, glancing down my perfect marble floor is all crimson, and sticky. Strands of hair everywhere.

I hear giggling, then a laugh behind me.

'NOW, look upon your beauty once more, my love.'

Turning the lights up, I gaze upon my reflection in the mirror, and scream.

All three images are now the same. My face is ripped open, gouges torn from my flesh, by my own fingernails. Patches of wispy hair is all that remains on my head. My flesh is now rendered off. I can see bone in places, torn and blistered skin, blood dripping from self inflicted wounds. Flesh, bubbling and melting off my body.

A burning sensation overwhelms me, as I am thrust into reality.

I step back for a better view, only a torn and bloodied figure reflects at me now. I try to run from this horrid wretch, but step on the now empty Drano container I thought was a miracle lotion and slip on the blood laden floor instead. In slow motion I fall back, feeling nothing but a dull thud and hear a crack as my head strikes the porcelain tub.

Like an echo in the forest, I hear the ringtone of my phone calling out.

The last thought I have before all goes black, is, I hope they remember that I was once beautiful.

Thank you,

Jason Basaraba

I read an article about a model , who was found dead in her apartment. No foul play or drugs were involved. That led me to one conclusion. It also made me wonder why we still haven't matured as a society. Continuing to use people, then discard them when something new comes along.