The Picture

I’m three years old. I’m wearing a pink and blue bucket hat that has an image of the cookie monster, some pink shorts and beige top; my hair is really curly and short. I see my reflection at a table that is covered in mirrors, some of them are broken and I don’t know why, they are just that way.

All the walls are beige and the couch is blue and has some stains on it. Near the couch is the table where we all eat and behind that there is another piece of furniture. I don’t know what it is, but it has a lot of glasses on it with some decour, the doors are made of wood and glass.

I’m sitting on the floor looking at my reflexion on the mirror table. Someone calls my name. It is my mom. She is holding a black or silver box that has some kind of circle in the middle. She telling me that I need to look in the circle, while she says that, she is pointing at the circle.

I stare at the circle and suddenly a light comes out near the circle, while you hear a noise that I can’t describe. I see little black dots for a while. 16 years later I see the picture of the little girl with her cookie monster bucket hat.

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