The Mirror

The light burned my eyes through the curtains that hung like feathers from the ceiling. I shoved the sheets off and pulled myself out of the bed.

The black comforter had been burning hot. The sun must have been shining on it for awhile. I wondered what time it was as I walked into the crystalline bathroom. Light filtered in, reflecting off of the glass that had splayed itself across the floors. They gave it an almost beautiful effect, but I couldn't forget why they were there. I maneuvered myself around them trying to reach the black, crisp counter edges wrapping their cold and hard arms around the walls.

Warm water cascaded down my shoulder blades into the drain. It almost felt like my skin was peeling away, trying to escape. Trying to tear itself from me.

I had a nice life. I had a great home left to me by my late grandfather. Nice car. Great job.

Nothing filled the hole though. It was just there one day. Right in the center if my body. A gaping, hungry, weeping hole. I knew that I was the only one who could see this hole in my chest, and it drove me insane. I pleaded to them with my eyes, my mouth. But they were ignorant and lonely and selfish creatures hell bent on pulling attention to themselves.

I hadn't realized just how long I was in the shower when the water began to run cold. Goosebumps trickled down my arms and legs, like the water had if infected me with some disease.

The rug was soft under my feet, but the towel dragged itself across my body. It was uncomfortable, almost like it had grown rough to protect itself.

I swept away the glass, finally. Getting out of the shower I had stepped on a piece and cut myself. They tinkles and tinkered away from the bristles, trapping themselves.

The mirror was in pristine condition, reflecting every insecurity and blemish, every hair out of place.

And then a knock.