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You’re about thirteen years old, and you are walking through a long, narrow hallway with your mother.
“That mirror looks old, and expensive,” you say to your mother.
“I’m sure it is,” your mother replies, “It’s a very old mirror, and it takes a lot of work to polish.”
You look over at her and see that she is smiling; you know that you are being lied to. “Are you sure it’s not a mirror from the dollar store?” you ask.
“Yes,” your mother replies, “It’s really an antique. It’s handmade.”
You roll your eyes, pretending to believe her as you keep walking by the mirror. You know that your mother is clearly lying, and you know that if you press any harder, you’re likely to receive some sort of punishment. You just don’t care anymore. Your brother is going off to college, and your parents have been alternating between rubbing it in and pretending like it’s no big deal, and you have just had enough.
“Did you find anything?” your father asks, walking up beside you and your mother.
You shrug and say, “No. Not really.”
“Nothing?” you mother asks.
“Nope,” you reply.
“Oh well.”
To you, it’s not worth it. You were never a fan of your older brother. There was no explanation for what he was doing, or how he was doing anything. He was some sort of “intellectual genius” that you couldn’t understand. It was beyond you. He was the kid that mom and dad always told that they should teach some more, whereas they reaped the benefits.
Your brother was the son that mom and dad always wanted, and you were the son that they always shouldn’t have. You are the son that dad kept mostly away from most of the stuff, and mom always said was “too young.” For your first class at school, mom and dad had made you go to class earlier than everyone else, and you just realized why. It was so that your brother, who was already a few years past and to the left, could have that seat.
You are glad that he is leaving. He never listens to criticism, and never listens to what you have to say. He doesn’t listen to anyone. You also have never seen him doing anything with anyone else. You haven’t seen him make friends, and you haven’t seen him doing things. In your thirteen years of life, you’ve only ever seen him reading, studying and doing math. He’s the only kid growing up in your neighborhood who didn’t seem to have any fun.
“Want to go to that planetarium?” your mother asks you.
“Of course,” you say, though you don’t really want to. You’re extremely bored.
“Be home by eleven, alright?” mom says.
“Sure,” you say.
“I love you,” your mother says.
You know that she’s lying, but you just let it be, because what could you do about it now? Your friends are waiting for you outside.
“See you tomorrow,” your mother says.
“Bye mom,” you say.
You walk to the bus stop. Your friends aren’t there yet, so you sit on a bench. A group of boys walk past you and grab your hat.
“Give it back!” you yell, running after them.
They all turn around laughing, and one of them throws it on the ground. You run and catch your hat, then turn around to see them all run away.
“Rude,” you say, putting your hat back on. You hang out waiting for your friends at the bus stop.
“Hey man,” one of your friends says. He’s holding a cheap lighter. You’ve vaguely remembered that he smokes pot.
“Hey,” you reply.
He pulls the lid off of a cigarette, lights it and holds it up to you. You reluctantly take it, and he laughs. “Are you going to smoke it?” he asks.
“I guess,” you say, letting out a puff of smoke.
“Alright, let’s get high,” he says.
You don’t really care about the time, so you smoke the pot with the guy until your friends are here. Once they all arrive, you head off to the planetarium.
“This way,” one of your friends says, as he leads you through a narrow hallway. You walk down the hallway, looking around at all the posters. You notice a mirror, about your height on the wall, and you see a scowl on your face.
As you look at your reflection, you see that you look different. The scowl on your face changes slightly, and you see that you are a middle-aged lady with a pointy nose.
You look at your reflection and you start screaming because you look like this. You stop yourself and open your eyes.
“What’s wrong?” one of your friends asks.
“I saw myself,” you say, “but I looked different.”
“You looked like you were older,” one of your friends says.
“I looked old,” you say.
You walk into the theater. You sit down and the lights start to dim. The movie is about this guy that gets stuck on a cut off island by himself. The one guy left on the island is trying to find his way out of the island. He is trying to fix an airplane that he found on the island.