Beauty is Only Plate-Glass Thick

***

No. NO. NO! Gilderoy, you promised you'd limit yourself to three hours a day! YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMIS-

Famous last words...ha. What more could you expect from a mirror slave to a narcissistic pretty boy? Before he goes out, he has to look in the mirror. Before he takes a shower, he has to look in the mirror. Before he sits on the can, he has to look in the mirror. It's just awful!

My once lovely plush handle now has an imprint of Lockhart's hand from overuse. Lockhart has polished me so much, that my actual mirror has nearly disintegrated. And the years, the years of torture...

I was given to baby Lockhart when he was nearly a year old. Before he had teddy bears, or blankies, he had me--his lovable mirror. He always took great care of me, but as soon as he could talk, the torture began.

"Mummy! Aren't I the prettiest little kid you've ever seen?"

"Yes, son, you are! Cootchie cootchie coo!"

"I wuv you Mommy!"

"I wuv you too, snookums."

And then he would ask me. *rolls eyes* I was made to be gazed upon by socialites and important persons, not a little two year old who was in grave need of a nose wipe!

"Mirry-poo, am I the cutest kiddy in the world?"

Groan...

Why won't someone kill me? Death would be better than yet another look in that disgusting face. (That wart on his nose...UGH!) And whenever he brings me close to his face, I become afraid that a repeat might happen of that terrible day when...he kissed me.

"Oh, you are so handsome, Gilderoy!" he said. SMOOCH! *shudder*

I wish someone would kill me. But no, they fear the "seven years of bad luck." Psh. Gilderoy made that up, just so I would never be taken from him!

Oh dear reflective gods. *looks at watch* Yes, it's 2 o'clock...time for his ten minute stare.

Please kill me.

****