They say breaking a mirror is bad luck. But is it? This must be the third mirror this month. My knuckles bleed every time, yet I can’t seem to get myself a bandaid. Because what is in that mirror is horrendous. It’s devastating.

“Come on, Mary, for the last time. There’s no blood there.”

I’ve been sleeping until 3:00am every morning. I’m not sure why. It’s calling me.

It’s all just so bloody.

I don’t like my nickname.