Perfectly Imperfect

The Unknown

The floor was cold, like ice freezing my bare legs. A deep dark red substance stained the marble tiles. The shower curtain lay strewn in the bathtub, having been ripped of its hooks.

My eyes followed each crack in the tiles until they lead to my frail, blood coated, hands. I pressed them onto the floor and pushed myself up.

I let my legs carry me towards the mirror.

I stopped at it. A large crack ran right through the middle of it infested with a crimson liquid.

A girl started at me, a carbon copy. Mirroring my every move. She stared at me with those sad eyes. She almost looked proud of the deep scratch marks that bared her cheeks. She was taunting me almost, like she knew something I didn't.

I stared. I wondered. I waited. I waited for hope. A hope that would drag me out of this dark abyss I was drowning in. I came up empty handed. I found nothing. There was nothing for me here.