She awoke suddenly from the dream, propelled by an unspoken urge to inspect herself. Rose and stood in front of the big, long mirror, whence stared back at her a beauteous, youthful creature, the pinnacle of flawlessness and a testament to physical perfection - shining, sparkling skin, rosy lips, eyes that were bright and wide and alive. She used those eyes to look at the rest of her body - and was met with flawless, unmarked skin, nails and curves wherever her gaze went.
And yet, when the young maiden's eyes met those of her reflection's, in the mirror, there was dismay and discomfort writ large on both pairs of wondering eyes.
Where, she wondered, were the scrape marks that signified her childhood times of fun climbing thick, gnarled trees? Where were the scars of old wounds assimilated over hot summer afternoons spent running with mad, wild fear in the heart - from parents, orchard guards, or just friends in the spirit of a game?
Where was the bee sting that had helped her miss school for a week, the scar from the accident that had introduced her to her best friend, the blemishes on her face that brought back memories of a nonchalant adolescence?
Why had her skin chosen beauty over beautiful, bittersweet memories that had marked so many turning points in her life? Why did it choose to erase all those pleasurable pains and hurts that had been so much a part of her? Why did she, outwardly a polished, elegant, lovely woman, feel from within such a turmoil, such a terrible loss of identity? Was this the dream, or was it the one she awoke from?
She stood silently, perfectly, and wondered..