Occasionalwriter4now
She stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel her body
acting automatically. She stepped forward to stare into her reflection. Fingers
glide across deadened skin lightly caressing the beautiful bumps while
flinching from the tinge of pain it brings. Now all the world would see, she
thought staring at the dead husk in the mirror. Under that flaky dry skin was
her creation; blisters brought by searing pain. She could remember the act; all
the anger, frustration, pain. She could remember trying to clean her face
trying to remove the filth, but it wouldn’t come clean. How could she ever come
clean; now the world could see the monster she was. No more pretending the pain
was etched on her face. She stared at her reflection trying to figure out how
she felt, but that was just it; she didn’t. It was a beautiful thing. The feelings
gone. There was nothing: no pain, no hurt, no joy, nothing. A numbness filled
her, something welcomed. After staring at her own reflection for a few minutes
she turned and collapsed on her bed inviting sleep, hoping the numbness would
be eternal.