Still in that mirror, the shakes of everything only rose. Even looking at myself was painful. But like the ink sprouted from the monster, a similar darkness sprouted from my head.
For the first time in my life, I felt a despair so sudden and drowning, that if I could die at the very moment and never be seen again, I would.
And I felt even more of a monster than I already did for that thought. A monster that would abandon everything for the selfish desires it wrought. A lump in the throat, knowing that I could not give up yet, but still wanted to. It would pass, as all feelings would, but as long as suicidal idealation lingered, I remained in that spot, sitting, waiting, pondering. But how? Not much you can set up to die with only one claw. And that brings one back to what wants me to suffer for. I no longer felt whole, because I wasn't whole. But for the first time in that long moment, I glanced to the window.
A silent darkness had accompanied me and the whole ocean. A sign. Already, the day was over, and I spent it with the rest those whitecoats told me to take. To get used to a new sort of life.
Because this awful feeling would pass, and I guess I'll be fine someday too, and I'll fit in with other cookies someday. But for now, straight from a stool I sat on, my body tumbled itself into a bed so warm.