What Makes You Different

Rachel looked at herself in the mirror and tried to decide what she liked best about herself. Was it her curly brown hair? No, that was too plain. Was it her smile? Couldn't be. Could it be her eyes?

With that thought, Rachel looked at herself a little more closely than she had a few moments before. Was it her eyes? She had always believed that the eyes were the windows into somebody's soul, but did it apply to her? Another look deep into her own eyes proved her theory true. Rachel saw her own pain, happiness, toils, and moments of bliss. She saw her amazing summer in the blink of an eye. Smiling to herself, Rachel picked up her guitar, a pad of paper, and a pen.

Strumming a simple G chord, Rachel tried to fit words into the emotions she was feeling. No words came to her as she played with several different chord progressions and melodies. Instead, Rachel found comfort in the raw chording. It seemed that every note she plucked, every chord that followed resonated inside of her and brought back a new and hidden memory from her camp experience.

She strummed a D chord and smiled. It reminded her of her trip down the Delaware River on a tube when she and Brian first met. He helped her all the way down the river even though she was the slowest one by far. He helped get her out of the 'evil' bushes when they 'attacked' her. Since then it had become an inside joke between the two of them.
Rachel strummed an A minor chord and laughed. The chord sounded like her friends laughing as one of them did a crazy impression of a counselor named Peter.

The next chord was F and was plucked instead of strummed. Rachel looked up with the sounding of the notes. She plucked them once again to make sure she heard them right. Rachel was indeed correct, the way she was when she felt the first drops of rain splash on her head. She remembered distinctively how Brian had laughed as they shared a game of tag in the downpour. She remembered how easily she got stuck in the mud and how Brian helped to rescue her. The entire camp had thought they were crazy, but Brian and Rachel shared an uncommon bond that allowed them to ignore the others and continue to enjoy in their escapades: even if it meant being late for dinner.

The last chord Rachel strummed was once again a G. It was symbolic, in a way, of how Rachel felt that she had gone in a full circle of emotions over a mere three weeks. Nothing could ever replace the feeling of satisfaction in the knowledge that she was being accepted for being her and not what others wanted her to be. Rachel strummed the chord and looked in the mirror. She saw laughter dancing in her eyes that had never been there before. She could vividly see the situations that caused the laughter and smiled a genuine smile. For the first time in what felt like ages, Rachel felt wanted and loved by others. The same girl who was staring back at her in the mirror was one who had been locked away and was scared to come out and see the light. Rachel pressed her hand to the mirror and the girl staring back at her did the same. Looking straight into her own eyes, Rachel smiled at herself and liked what she saw.

"You're beautiful because you're different," Brian had told her as he helped her back to her room. "That's what makes you so special." With that Brian took her hand and looked into her eyes. "Your eyes are so beautiful."

"Stop it, Brian," Rachel remembered herself saying as she blushed. "You're embarrassing me." Brian still hadn't let go of her hand, which had forced Rachel to spin her chair back towards him. He was still staring at her. "Oh my G-d, you're serious."

Rachel smiled at the mirror one last time and didn't see a girl in a wheelchair: she saw herself.

"Hello," she said to the girl in the mirror. "It's nice to see you again."

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