The Mirror of Death

Step 1: Look at yourself in the mirror.

Do it now. I know you don’t want to. Look at yourself. Pathetic girl, your eyes are burning red and your head is pounding. Maybe next time you won’t cry as much. Your hair is knotted from the countless times you dragged your fingers through it and yanked. Lace your fingers through it again and pull, pull harder and harder. Let the long strands drop to the floor; you’ll sweep them up tomorrow. Look at the bruise you left on your forehead from smashing your head into the walls. Think of the lies you’ll tell your mother when she sees it tomorrow morning. Look at the hole in your chest where you heart once was. The rancid stench of the black goo oozing out of it and onto your shirt is making your eyes water again. Don’t cry anymore, not tonight.

Step 2: Strip from your clothes.

Remember the way he undressed you. Stop. You’re not supposed to think about him anymore. He doesn’t love you. You can’t help yourself, so you think about him anyways. He started at your feet with your socks and quickly disposed of the rest of your clothing. Remember the way his hands caressed your thighs as he removed your shorts. Feel the ghost of his fingers slide up your ribs and under your shirt slipping it over your head. Why do you do this to yourself, princess? He hasn’t touched you in months.

Step 3: Lower yourself into the scorching water slowly filling the tub.

You like the water hot. It helps keep your mind off of him, anything to take away the pain of his absence. Tonight, it doesn’t work. Your skin is slowly turning red and you remember every piece of flesh where his lips once danced across. You remember every time he held you in his arms and told you how much he loved you. Poor girl, your mother never told you that you couldn’t make homes out of human beings. Keep lowering yourself until the boiling water is just under your nostrils. Remember the way he left you. Remember that even after he was gone he still said he loved you. Remember that now he wants her. Remember that he does not want you anymore. Remember the way his voice sounded when he said, “We are done. I want nothing to do with you.