The mirror, is a single reflection of the person we really are. I often stare in it.
Eyes gazing upon a monument hand crafted by Egyptian slaves. People who are known for perfection very precise sense of direction, my mom told me they created me but sometimes I question her judgement. I question my body as if it was a multiple-choice test and I fail every time. The answer that I think is right is always wrong. The A, B, C, D never speaks to me. I am not listed on this answer sheet. But why?
I remember I when I was 10 years old sitting in front of the TV, no dinner table for my family, just a rug that has seen more food stains than grandmas apron, I open the burger wrapper, beginning to take a bite but I wait, I open my mouth and I ask my mom how come we never eat vegetables like the white people. Burger in her hand, she looks at me.
Face turns pal, her eyes begin to water and I see a rushing wave of tears beginning to fall down her face and she just stares at me.
First tear falling down her cheek like the first drop of rain before a hurricane, she says son, it's because we can't afford to get it. Not really hearing what my mother said I just get up and run into her arms I wipe her face and give her a kiss already forgiving her for this mistake. Not a mistake that she had control over. She did the best she could, and the tears roll and I hold her: child to mother. I held her so tight.