Open the door

Who are you when nobody’s watching?
How do you look?
What do you think about?
How do things make you feel?

You told me you want to be left alone for a while, so here I am seated, just outside your bedroom – waiting for you to open the door and come out. It’s been three hours since you decided to lock yourself up. Your mother has called at least fifteen times, and I have had to lie to her a couple of times more. You know how much of a terrible liar I am. Your mother caught me red handed in the first try. She’s on her way back home, she’s coming back to have a check on you. Do not blame me. I’ve told you a hundred times to not make me lie. Okay, enough of this side talk. I’m serious now. Open the damn door! I need to talk to you, your mom’s worried. I’m worried, we’re all worried. How dare you call yourself worthless? We all remember how ruthlessly you failed math, in second grade. Why did you forget? I’m teasing you more often from now on. Stop glaring into the mirror, I know it’s frustrating. Besides, passing time won’t change what you get to see in there. I know how you feel about mirrors, you developed a general dislike towards them in the middle of your sixth grade. I also remember the day we moved into this house, how you didn’t want to be in a room which had been so lavishly adorned with a fancy mirror. You hated it. You threw an all night tantrum in front of your parents, but the age old Feng Shui still won the game. May I remind you that mirrors are nothing, but curated pieces of painted glass? You can break them if you want to, don’t worry. For you, I don’t mind taking the blame.