Moonlight

I glance at the mirror and draw away, repulsed. A single furious tear dares to escape and roll down my pale face. In a flash of impulse and rage, I swing my arm and hit the mirror full force. The glass shatters and sprays everywhere in a million shards. The air is filled with the sound of tinkling glass. My knuckles are oozing crimson blood, but I strangely don't feel anything. I watch the blood splatter on the marble bathroom tiles. I'm not the least bit surprised. I've felt so disconnected from the world lately, I've probably completely lost touch with reality. I peacefully close my eyes and let my vision slowly fade into darkness. Death had finally come to relieve me of my constant suffering.

My eyes open and I sit up, wide-eyed. I am hyperventilating, and I wipe off the sweat off my brows. The room spins as I spiral into panic. I somehow manage to slow my breathing. I realize I'm not in my bathroom, and my knuckles aren't bleeding. After a few moments, I flop back down on my bed. I squint as the first rays of sunlight filter through my cheap blinds. My alarm clock on my bed stand reads 8:30, which is unusually early for me. My swirling thoughts and emotions cycle in my head like an intense hurricane. I don't want to get out of bed. Scratch that, I don't want to live. I continue lying motionless until my phone lights up with a new message from my girlfriend, Nora.

"Will come you come to my place in half an hour? We can go to the morning market together. <3"

I try to force myself out of bed. I am doing this for her, not me. I finally manage to summon enough energy to get out of bed. I pull on some skinny jeans and throw on a sweater. I shove my phone in my pocket and head to the bathroom to attempt to tame my frizzy, golden brown hair.

I can barely stand looking at myself. I've been told I'm a very pretty girl, but I refuse to believe it. My anguished green-gray eyes stare at my bathroom mirror with a blistering look. I comb through my hair and spray some hairspray into it. After brushing my teeth, I trudge down the stairs. I skip breakfast and slip on a thick black coat with similarly colored gloves. I open the front door and the bitterly frigid German wind smacks me in the face. It picks up my hair and plays with it. I smooth it back down in frustration and impatience.

It is generally dangerous to leave me alone to my own thoughts. It feels like I'm falling into the abyss that is my troubled mind.

Today, for some peculiar reason, I think of rivers. How I feel trapped within my own body, and how well that river represents me. I am stuck in the current, wanting desperately to leave. The riverbed is society, and the raging and rapid current is the people of society, pushing me along against my will. But then, I wonder, what the hell I would do if by some miracle I escaped. Would I find freedom? Or, would I be shapeless, and evaporate only to fall into another river and repeat the torturous cycle over and over again?

I suddenly become aware of my surroundings. I'm on the cobbled streets nearing Nora's house. I've walked there so many times that autopilot had taken over. I approach her little brick house at the end of the street. I knock on her door with a tiny smile. The door bursts open and she jumps into my arms. We stay like that for several moments.

I break the silence and say, "You said you wanted to go to the market?"

"Yep," she says with a cheeky grin.

That sneaky girl. I know what she really wants. I lean in and kiss her. I am consumed by the fire that is her, electricity surging through my body. It feels so perfect, but these kinds of feelings don't last forever. I pull back, gazing lovingly in her deep blue eyes. They often remind me of glistening sapphires.

"All right, you cunning woman, you got what you wanted. Now can we go to the market?" I ask.

"Is that an order?" she inquires poutily.