It’s the first time I’ve seen my own reflection since I was fourteen. I’ve been too nervous to look. My hair is so long it reaches the base of my spine. It’s still wet, so the blonde looks darker than usual. My eyes are the same bright blue they’ve always been, a trait I got from a father I barely remember, and my skin is pale from the years I’ve spent deprived of the sun. I was always tan, having grown up so close to the beach. Mom called me her little gingerbread. It’s alarming, seeing this person who’s me but somehow isn’t.
Saylor at 19 almost 20yrs old
