Sometimes when I look in the mirror I see myself. Other times I don’t. It’s a game I’m all too fond of and I have no idea why. I know who stares back at me when the eyes meeting my gaze aren’t my own. I know why he stares. I know what he wants.

I tried so hard to be the woman everyone wanted me to be. I fought until I was so beaten down I couldn’t recognize the difference between the pain and the peace. I gave it my all and it gave me my scars. So that’s why you must understand. I couldn’t fight to lose anymore.

So when i look in the mirror now, I see him. I see him taunting me and laughing at my failures and applauding my release.

His face is curved in a mesmerizing grin that sends shivers down my spine. I feel so scared I sit frozen in fear yet I never wanted to run to begin with. Something about his demeanor is calming and satisfying. I reach out to touch the cold, damp mirror, unable to resist.

I’m sorry I failed.

I’m sorry I did what I did.

I’m sorry there’s blood on both our hands now.

But the demon in the mirror told me I had to.