Each step she took, she found herself shattering. Every step towards the mirror left her breathless. The smooth sky blue clouding her senses. Every turn was filled with that light blue, no objects to be seen except the mirror. The faint sounds of a piano playing, almost as though it followed her steps, like a dance. The cracks in her skin made her feel welcome like she was made of glass, as fragile and soft as the vast gloss that coated the gentle shade of color and the mirror that made the area look so empty yet so full. She could care less about the glass that fell to the floor, an indication that she is still breaking. It barely stung, like lightly tapping the tip of a newly sharpened pencil. The feeling was intoxicating, like a drug that tore her body apart. She felt like a goddess, so powerful, yet so weak in the hands of the world. A blooming flower that has seen the beauty of existing for the first time. She can't stop dancing, she doesn't want to. She slowly fades away. An accumulation of glass that is easily swept away. Gone but never forgotten. Her legacy remaining in the mirror that she found so heart-stopping.