Reflections of Imperfection

With a joyous yell, I throw my arms above my head and spin, somehow managing to be reckless and graceful all in one movement. Tilting my head back, I feel my grin widen, seeming to go on for miles around me. The tall grass sways gently beneath my barefeet, leaning in to brush my shoulders and wrap around my waist. I lower my arms and gently continue onward, dancing through the tall field. The grass twines through my legs, joining me in a waltz to the music flowing through my mind and swirling in notes all around me. I laugh, the sound echoing and ringing endlessly. Gravity shifts and shivers, emphasizing my every leap and twirl. My skin tingles, rushing with emotion and excitement. I'm enclosed in folds of bliss, that guide my feet and lift my arms in steps of harmony.

In the distance, I glimpse a girl's figure, standing beneath the great branches of a willow tree. A gentle tick, tick, tick fills my ears as I stare. My dancing slows, as my gut wrenches me to a stop. I want to inquire further, but an invisible hand pulls me to a standstill. I frown, as my soul battles with my mind, trying desperately to break through the bliss. Finally apart of me surrenders, and the firm grip releases me. I continue forward, my smile returning as quickly as it had left.
The gap between us closes almost instantly, and suddenly I am no more than a few yards away. Her back is turned, and from a safe distance, I study her, wondering if she is oblivious to my presence. Her long hair cascades over her shoulders, falling midway down her back, and meeting the low hem of her dress. The sun streams through the intricate branches, illuminating her ivory skin in golds and pinks. Slowly, she turns around. My breath catches in my throat as I carefully trace the features of her face. Her long eyelashes, high cheekbones and slightly crooked smile paint a mask of an all too familiar face: Mine.
Her eyes cast downwards, and I notice a small stopwatch dangling from a long chain around her neck. Patterns of the past dance across its polished gold surface, all coming together in the center to form the unknown. She lifts it delicately in her palm, before meeting my gaze once more. Apathy swirls behind her bright eyes, colliding with wonder and anticipation. The ticking is louder now, almost unbearable.
Gritting my teeth, I raise my hand in return, and slowly begin to reach towards her. Once again, the slight space between us is reduced, and her own outstretched fingertips are nearly to mine.
The cool sensation of the glass my hand connects with races through my arm, chasing my blood and freezing my veins. The girl on the other side stares back at me with the same bewildered expression that I know reflects my own.
Beneath my soft touch, the glass splinters slightly, cracking upwards. The girl's sad eyes leave mine, as we watch our images of eachother shatter and fall to the once beautiful ground.
I stumble backwards, walking and then running away from the girl, from myself.
Distantly, I notice a loud, piercing noise interrupting the still air. It takes me a moment to realize that it is just my own screams.