I laughed like a mad woman. It all made sense. It was so easier to be crazy then to tryto get better. Oh it was a bitch to spiral downhill, but at least I knew that I wouldn’t haveto climb back up. No. I could sit at the bottom and rot, and just wait for the vultures to flyby and pick at my body. I covered my mouth, and there was a brief moment of clarity.Then there was a voice as crisp and clear like a summer breeze. “Why even go on?” Thesmiled faded from my face. It was a question that had popped into my head numeroustimes, but I always chased it away. Now, while looking at myself in the mirror, Iseriously had to wonder why I didn’t end it all. I hated suffering, but a part of me wasstill scared of death.
“You need to die.” I looked back into the mirror bewildered and stared at a womanwith seawater eyes and long brown hair.
“Yes, that’s right. I need to die,” I said shaking my head.
Her hair started to blow, like she was standing in front a huge fan. Then she began torip handfuls of it from her scalp, she shut her eyes tight and when she opened them again,they were black. Her face took on hard edges, with a strong nose and square jaw. Herface looked sun dried with solid hard lines, like cracked dried sand in the SavannahDesert. She was now a man with dark skin. She was Nico. He just smiled and started tolaugh, loud wicked cackles.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed.
In a fit of rage, I slammed my fist into the mirror. It broke into a dozen jigsaw pieces.I winced as I waved my hand around, trying to cool off the pain from the fresh cuts andbruises. I ripped a white towel off of the rack and wrapped it around my hand, withinseconds the towel was moist and red from blood. There was a loud knock on the door.
“Everything okay in there? I thought that I heard something,” an orderly said fromthe other side of the door.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” I said as I leaned over and tried to scrap up the glass withmy good hand. There was a long shard lying apart from the rest of the pieces. I picked itup and looked at it. I could only see one of my eyes, half of my mouth, and a quarter ofmy forehead. This is all that is left of me, I thought. This is all that is left. The doorswung open and orderly in scrubs rushed in. I jumped up to my feet and quickly stuffedthe long shard of glass into my pocket. He looked at me, and then at the mirror.
“What happened in here?” he asked.
I wanted to tell him that I was seeing people from my dreams in the mirror. Theywere trying to get me and take me away, so I broke it, so there would be no window forthem to pull me through. I narrowed my eyes and realized that I was really fucking crazy.Thankfully, I didn’t have to say anything; one look at my hand explained it all.
“Okay, it’s alright. We’ll take care of it,” he said.
“Don’t get mad at him.” I looked back at the mirror. It was the elderly woman, butnow her face was distorted, she appeared to have asymmetrical features, with a lopsidednose and her eyes moved up and down like a seesaw.
“You got to fight him from inside,” she said.
The image had changed again. I squinted to try and make out who it was. My fist hadleft a huge intention in the center of the glass, causing his nose to look sunken andmisshapen. His mouth was abnormally big, looking more like a snout.
“We’ll help you. We’re here to help you,” Chobo said sounding like he was speakingthrough a bullhorn. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I wanted to block them all out.I wanted to block them all out forever.
“Okay, Nelly. We’re going to have to ask you to step aside so we can clean up theglass.” I looked at the orderly. He had a broom and dustpan in his hands. There were twopeople standing behind him.
“There’s no need to worry, we’re just going to take care of your hand and clean upthe glass so no one else gets hurt.” he added edging forward.
“I don’t want to be hurt,” I said while backing into the corner of the room.
“I don’t want to feel any more pain,” I said with my voice cracking.
“I know.” The orderly said while shaking his head. “That’s why we’re here, to cleanyou up, so you don’t feel any pain,” he said.
“You’re a fucking liar.” I spat.
“You work for Nico, you all work for Nico and he sent you in here to kill me,” Ihissed.
“Go get Dr. Ontarian,” the orderly said. A man behind him rushed off.
“He’s not going to stop until I’m dead. Don’t you see that he’s trying to kill me?”
“No one here is trying to kill you,” he said holding up his hand in a gesture to keepthe peace. I looked at him, and saw that he was edging forward. I remembered the glassthat was stuffed inside my pocket. It seemed to get harder like a man’s penis. In a state ofawe, I reached down and messaged it from the outside of my pants pocket, a tinglingsensation shot from my legs to my upper body. Yes, it
