I walk around like everything is fine, wondering how long can I really keep this front up? A part of me wants to just crash, but to bad I was taught to never let them see me sweat! Yea I’m human, shit bothers me, but fuck it, you would never know! Plus there is only 24 hrs in a day, and I have things to do, I can’t be worried about what this one and that one thinks of me. Who are they to judge? When they stop talking then maybe I’ll worry.

Where I’m from, life moves fast. Blink twice and the day is gone. However I do have a heart and this girl that was on the train with me caught my attention for some reason. I perked up as she walked in and took a seat, and I overheard her talking about suicide. A cold chill went through my body at that moment. I wondered to myself what can be that bad that makes you want to end it all. Who gave us that right to decide when it’s over? The struggle is what gives us character…right? I made eye contact with her, and nodded my head for her to come sit next to me in the empty seat. She looked familiar, like I’ve seen her before someplace. I couldn’t help but stare at her and wonder why, why would she want to end it, what was her story, she was beautiful, but something was missing on the inside….

She was a college grad, who had just purchased her first Brownstone in the city, and was on her way downtown to do some shopping to hopefully take her mind off something’s. She said that she hasn’t been on the train since her college days. She decided to leave her Rang Rover uptown someplace and hopped on the train. For a person that seemed to have a lot going on for herself, I had to ask, why?

She told me that she was from a split family, her mother rather spend her days with Captain Morgan than with her. Her father only talked with a leather belt as a child, and then would buy her things the next day as some sort of apology. She said that she was constantly compare to her sister, being told that she will never be as pretty as her sister. They really never had a sister bond, everything was a competition. Her mother made it obvious who was her favorite, and called her names when she was a child. Her grandfather never had anything to say to her, unless he was calling her black girl or fat. She said that the only person that she grew to be comfortable with was her boyfriend that she met when she was 13. I mentioned to her that I thought it was amazing that they were still together, 14 years later. She gave me a cold stare, and then said that it’s no fairy tale between them. She went on to tell me that she got pregnant when she was 17 by him, but knew that she couldn’t have that baby due to the living condition with her family. Even though he stayed with her after that, she thinks back now, that maybe it would have been best if he didn’t. She said, when she was 20 he promised her that he will marry her one day, but she never saw changes.

Instead she watched him become abusive and unfaithful. He went on to have children with someone else, he beat her, blamed her for everything. Even told her that it was her fault that he cheated and started drinking, saying that she picked college over him. As the years went on, so did the pregnancies and the abortions. She looked out the window on the train and said in a whisper tone, “I’ll never have that bastards baby” She said that she even had a hard time with girl friends. She never knew who she could trust or who had her best interest at heart. The harder she tried to fit in the sharper the pain would be when they stabbed her in the back.

I watched as a tear formed in her eye, and I placed a hand on her shoulder. The only words that I could get to come out my mouth was, “Things will be okay” I couldn’t believe that the world we live in today, really places that much power on the outer appearance, so much that the woman in front of me feels that suicide is the answer. To be completely honest, the woman was beautiful, who are these people treating her this way, why can’t they see what I see? What does it take for people to recognize potential? She continued to tell me that she feels as though she worked hard to accomplish the things that she has, but she felt like it was a waste of time due to no one believing in her. She felt like she was only invited to things so that she can pay for them, and her boyfriend only played the boyfriend part on her pay days. I wanted to tell her, that’s not a boyfriend, but this really wasn’t the time for that.

I couldn’t believe that she was still with him after what all he has done to her. I guess that she could read what was going on in my mind cause next she told me that they had a fight last night and he told her that he doesn’t come home at night cause all she does is work. She explained to me that she has to, because he doesn’t contribute to anything. She said her best nights of sleep are when he isn’t there. I stared at her and shook my head to let her know, she doesn’t need to go on about him. His day will come, to treat a woman the way he treats her will grant him nothing but bad luck, especially when he came from a woman. I told her to picture her life as the glass being half full, not empty. It may not seem like it, but she is blessed, she never had his kids therefore she won’t be a statistic of all the single unwed mothers in the world. So what if her sister is known to be prettier, looks only get us so far in life, and true beauty goes beyond what the eye can see. She may not think so, but no matter who we are, there is always, always someone prettier. Her parents will have to answer for what they did and are still doing. Life is a circle, and the day always comes when the children have to take care of their parents. Life is a puzzle without all the pieces. No one is ever a perfect fit, and for the friends that did you wrong, let’s see if they stab the new girl on the block in the back, her name is Karma!

For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to leave someone. I felt like I needed to say more, whatever it took for this girl to change her mind. But, the train slowed down, and her stop was up. We both stared at each other for a second but it felt like it was forever. I watched her as she walked through the doors and the doors close behind her. I looked out the window until I couldn’t see her image in sight anymore. Then I realized where I knew her from. It wasn’t a window I saw her in, or through… IT WAS MY MIRROR.

B Jones