Since when did she begin to smile that way?

By chance, she caught a glimpse of her reflection as she smiled, and for a moment, she couldn’t recognize the person staring back at her.

Who was that stranger in the mirror, and how long had she been there? That smile, so perfectly crafted as if molded by careful hands, was not truly hers and no one noticed, not even she, until now.

Standing before the mirror, she wondered, when had the sparks in her eyes burned out? When had the creases at the corners of her mouth grown so pronounced? For how long had she worn this unfamiliar smile? She smiled again, and it was exactly as before the same expression she had seen earlier, unchanged and unyielding.

She tried again and again, but the old her was long gone. She had unknowingly shot herself in the foot and buried the person she used to be. There was no returning to who she once was.

The truth was, she couldn’t even recall what that person looked like. She had drowned so deeply in her emotions that she became a faceless figure. And Instead of attempting to mend the mess she had made, she chose to wear a mask, a mask so perfectly crafted that it even deceived her.

Now she bears two faces: one, a flawless façade that no one can discern as fake; and the other, a formless void, the remnants of the self she destroyed.

She is Jane Doe.