By Laura, age 17, California
The young girl goes by the name of Alys, just Alys. Every day she confronts the mirror and greets her enemy with a frown; her hatred growing stronger each day. As a child, when asked of her identity, she would simply answer the question by grinning and chiming, "I am Alys!" Now the true question was, who is Alys?
After her staring contest with the bathroom mirror Alys quickly dressed herself for the upcoming school day and snatched her bag off the bed. Trudging her way to the school campus became quite a tedious task. The sickening ice cold air rushed past her shivering body, the sky tainted a melancholic grey as its tears departed from the heavens, roughly landing against the terrain. She didn't mind at all. Her thoughts remained the same after her morning fracas. That confidence of hers as a child made her appear arrogant to others, especially after being asked by her teacher if she believed she would ever have an identity crisis as a teenager. She made it clear to her fellow students that she knew who she was and could not understand how people were capable of an identity crisis. A soft chuckle could be heard through the pitter patter of rain. Foolish, that's what she was. Little Alys was a naive ignorant child who had no worries in life, just like her present day reflection. She laughed and laughed and laughed as she continued to replay that memory in her head. Alys was Alys, nothing more. People looked way too deeply into things nowadays. Her feet stood still, coming upon a realization, her head titled upwards towards the sky, the droplets of water streaming down her face. What made Alys Alys? As soon as she found an answer to one question another question was easily asked.
At school she sat idly in the back, near the window, her eyes glued to the outside scenery of rain. Alys is a person who detests school, work, pink, and people. Alys is a person who likes alone time, coffee, chocolate, and creativity. Alys is a person who has unique interests that not many people have. She smiled weakly as she thought of this. Her lips quickly fell into a frown right after. People hate school and work. People like coffee and chocolate. She's not the only one. This was one challenge she could not tolerate any further. It's as if her twelve-year-old self mocked her for being so cocky back then. Her interests made no true difference; people had similar interests, no doubt about it. Thoughts raced through her head, unable to produce an answer to all her questions. Besides her interests she began to think about her actions and philosophies. She believes in saying what is on her mind, being direct with people, and doing what she wants. She isn't afraid. Maybe that's what makes Alys Alys. She sighed and laid her head on the cold surface of the desk. This was never ending torment.
Hours later Alys strolled down the streets of the city to arrive to her destination, home. It was time to face her demon once and for all. She now stood firmly in front of the mirror, her hands tightly gripping both sides of the bathroom sink. "Answer me!" Alys had grown tired of this game; it was time for it to end, even if it meant forfeiting. "Who is Alys?! What makes me who I am?" Nothing dared disturb the silence. She released an aggravated sigh and directed her eyes downwards. This was stupid, idiotic - childish. Of course, her reflection would not answer back.
"Alys ..." she whispered softly. "Alys is a sixteen-year-old kid who has much to learn about life. Alys acts like a child despite her age. Alys thinks things over way too much. Alys hates life. Alys loves life. Alys is disgusted by labels and social hierarchy. Alys believes what she wants to believe." A smirk formed upon her lips as her eyes looked back at the mirror, a certain fire sparked in them. "She is not easily broken or influenced. She is an individual unlike any other." Her body turned to the door, her index finger pointed towards the mirror. "You may be Alys, but I still hate you, ya know."
Her identity is her name, her name is herself. The answer to her questions was right in front of her each and every day. She just couldn't accept it. People are who they are. One's actions, reactions, likes, dislikes, and personal philosophies create an individual unlike any other. Yes, people share similar interests, but everyone sees the world differently. Their point of view can't be taken away; it can be interpreted but not stolen. An identity crisis may or may not happen, but on average one most certainly wonders who they are, at least once. Interests and values not only set one apart, they create an identity.