My fist collided with the mirror, sending the sickening sound of shattering bone and glass around the small bar bathroom.

I doubled over the sink, my sharp intake of breath shrill like a whistle. Blood dripped into the ceramic bowl. My hands shook, red wicked welts covered my knuckles. Bits of mirror dug in deep.

My stomach lurched, a wave of dizziness overtook me. Submerging my senses like I was shoved underwater.

I looked up, ready to punch that fractured shitty face of mine in the mirror again.

But my vexed expression didn’t meet me. Instead a swirling mess of colors and nothingness sat in the shattered hole of the mirror. It almost gloomed, filling the room with static.

“Colter, open the fucking door.” A irate voice called through the door. A barrage of knocks rattled the hinges.

I stumbled backwards, my feet like cinderblocks tied together. The hole, waved in and out of focus. I blinked, unable to discern between the spinning room and the warping mirror.

“This is the last time you’ll ever drink here again.” The banging increased. “You have ten fucking seconds to open this door.”

Blood pounded in my ears, just like the pounding on the door. It all blended together in a haze of sound, as I stared down the mirror.

Like a doorway, it opened. A blurry path laid clear.

“Fuck it..” I mumbled.

Dunk and bloody I scampered up on the sink counter. Perched like a blitzed bird, I leaned my head in. My whole body following as I fell.

One last final crescendo of bad decisions.