Meet Mark, the ordinary guy who lives a normal-ish life. Mark lives with his relatives because his parents died years ago and he had to move from CA to IL and from the city, to a subdivision 5 miles from any town. Being 8 at the time, didn't keep up with his old friends. He was an only child and lived with his Aunt and Uncle. His Aunt and Uncle had kids of their own, but as an 8 year old, the kids, his cousins, were finishing college. Even at the time he realized he was setting his family members back around a decade and a half in their life progression and despite it not being his fault, felt guilty.
Mark reached high school and noticed there was a mirror behind his bedroom door now. It just appeared one day like it had always been there and he assumed it was an artistic furnishing from his Aunt. Not a gift, just something that needed a home and his room was good enough. It wasn't the most impressive thing. The glass was dirty, and it made his reflection wavy, but it reflected his lanky image back to him.
He looked at the mirror rarely, he was generally not something he liked to look at. Puberty was being unkind to him with acne, inflammation, strange body proportions, stretch marks and the near impossibility of gaining weight... If he did glance is was to make sure he didn't have a cowlick or a zit ready to explode. If he stared any longer his own self loathing would rise, unaware the mirror could sense his yearning to be something different from what he was, was waiting for the chance to use him, and just waiting for the day he could reach out and make him its own.
That day came one sunny afternoon when Mark looked at the reflection and let out a sigh. "I wish I was..."
