It broke. The shattering sound filled LisaÃÂs room, as the small mirror broke into a million pieces. ÃÂDamn,ÃÂ she muttered as she picked up the pieces of the broken glass. It didnÃÂt matter, she hated mirrors anyway. Mirrors were always honest, and lately she couldnÃÂt stand to look at what she had become. She began sweeping up the shards of broken glass and in the process caught a glimpse of her reflection. Lisa shuddered and said aloud, ÃÂGeneric.ÃÂ Utterly and completely boring and generic. Lisa was bored with herself. She felt as though she had assimilated to become like everyone else. She stepped in front of the recently dreaded full length mirror that hung in her bedroom to get a better look. Everything about her was boring. She and her friends were clones of one another. They all bought the same clothes from the same overpriced trendy stores. They all cut their almost-blonde hair in the same, boring shoulder length fashion, and they all wore exactly the same striped running shoes.
Individuality was not an option. Lisa stood there for a few moments, looking in disgust at the carbon copy she had become. ÃÂHow did this happen?ÃÂ she thought to herself. The answer to that question was high school. Back in ninth grade it was easy to get caught up with who was cool and who wasnÃÂt. Lisa managed to somehow obtain a fair amount of popularity. Of course this popularity came at a price; her individuality. From then on, it was goodbye Lisa, whoa had loved writing, horses and had a desire to change the world. Hello missus popularity. Hello shopping, tanning, weekly manicures and binge drinking. Lisa, who was now in her last year of high school, couldnÃÂt stand it anymore. She wanted herself back.