A crisp wind pierced my skin as I strode down a narrow side road, quickly so I wouldn’t miss the bus. I closed my eyes, trying to act like I could keep it together.

“Hurry,” I breathed to myself, speeding up.

I eyed the ground, trying to stop my eyes from watering as I marched down the street. The pavement was littered with empty Cheetos bags, soda cans, dead leaves, and….

Something silvery caught my eye, a glimmer of light. I bent down and realized I was staring at a sliver of mirror.

I hadn’t looked in the mirror since…well. Since.

I studied the girl in the mirror. She looked about fourteen. Orange curls and freckles. Bright blue eyes.

My eyes scared me as I leaned in for a closer look. There was something so sad, so lonely, about the eyes in the mirror. They were full of heartbreak, full of terror. There was real pain under the sweet blue. I gave a small cry and real tears came.

I could still see a glimpse of the girl before me, the girl who had never been raped.

But just barely.