The Man In The Mirror

That Wouldn't Be Hard

Carefully, I pulled my shirt down over my head. I tried to avoid all the bruises that splattered my body- reminders from last night. I yawned as I searched threw my immaculate wardrobe for a pair of jeans, moving slowly to drag the minutes ticking by. I winced as I accidently knocked my bruise against the wardrobe door. I bit my lip against the pain and stood there a moment before moving away.

My room was simple but luxourious, with a queen sized bed, a wardrobe, a chest of draws and a desk. The one aspect that stand out though, was the book cases. They lined my room's walls from bottom to top, towering over everything below. And in their grasp were hundreds of books.

With a lot of time on your hands you read a lot of books. And a lot of films, as I glanced at my large television in the cramped space where there were no book cases.

I adjusted my quilt so it covered all my bed, and tucked it neatly under the mattress. Nothing out of place everything immaculate. I, almost desperatley, search for something else to do. But, no. I had to go down stairs to face my parents, I shook with anxiety at the thought, after last night nobody was going to look at me without staring worridly, or not glance at me repeatedly, or completely ignoring me at all- which I was just fine with, but I couldn't say that because that would bring us all back to square one.

Phycitrist appointments.

Disgust and self-loathing filled me at the very thought, but I swallowed the feelings down and tried to remain calm.
I wouldn't- I couldn't let my aniety attacks get the better of me. Anger bubbled up inside me,

- because that won't be hard.

"Damn it!" I whisperd violontly as I slammed my palm down onto my draws. I couldn't stall any longer, so I took a deep breath; but on a falsly bright smile and took the stairs to the kitchen.

The stairs were smooth as I ran.my jands down the banister. The feet sank into the carpet and was glad to feel a sense of stability.

Mmm... I inhaled a deep breath of the dwlicious scent of an English breakfast and the cracking and popping noise of fried bacon swarmed my senses. A of a sudden, I felt my shoulder relax- maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, thought to myself as I finally pressed my hand on the metal door nob to the kitchen. The cool metal kissed my skin and before I could think otherwise I gave it a sharp tug and stepped threw the door into the light.