The Face in the Mirror(Kendra Dawn) As I stare at the face before me I am filled with feelings of unrelenting hate. Her dark auburn hair falls in waves down her back as her pale skin makes her dark, sorrowful eyes appear even more broken. I know this face and I hate her. I hate her, because she is my own. Why is she so weak, I ask myself angrily. Maybe if she were stronger, maybe if she were braver then none of this would have happened. Maybe if I were better then I wouldn't be dressed in black, waiting to say goodbye to what remains of my father. No, it isn't my fault, I think hastily, it's her fault. She did this.

"Your fault!" I scream looking into her eyes. She needs to know. She needs to suffer, but all she does is stare at me with those beautiful, brown, and broken eyes pleading. "Answer me!" I yell once more, even though I didn't ask her a question. She only stares. "Why?" I beg her, my voice harsh and accusing, "Why didn't you save him? Why didn't you call for help?" She looks at me, eyes pleading. She needs to understand. She has to. I have to make her understand. It's not my fault, not my fault. "Why didn't you save him?" I whisper. Suddenly, I feel raw and exposed. She doesn't answer. She starts to cry and that makes me angry. It makes me so angry that for the first time in all of my 17 years of life, I feel rage.

"No!" I cry out, "No! You can't cry! It's not your right! You killed him! You're at fault!" I am shaking, in her eyes I sense fear. She's shaking too. "You knew," I continue, "You knew that he was sick! You knew he was dying! You could have saved him! It should be you! It's your fault!" I scream the last two words then collapse into the mirror weeping. It felt as though my soul were bleeding. I am dying, just like him. My heart feels as though it's about to explode, just like his. This is it, I muse, it's finally time, but before I go i must ask her one last time. I have to know.

I look up into those devastated brown eyes and ask one last time, "Why?"

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