The Mirror

The air is heavy.
My lungs slowly suck in steam. One long, laboring breath at a time. Water condenses on my skin. My hair drips into my eyes and down my face.
The mirror stands in front of me, framing me from head to waist. I move a towel down its fogged up face.
If this were a scene in a film Mike would say this particular framing turns the focus to the actor’s thoughts and emotions.
I try to translate my thoughts into emotions into body language.
I’m not thinking.
I’m not feeling.
Nothing translates into nothing.

I stare at my eyes. Glazed and dead fish, bluish gray. Dilated pupils.
I lean in closer. Close enough to see my breath on the glass. I try to look deeper. To see what's inside.
Dead fish, bluish gray. Dilated pupils.
Nothing else.

I take a step back.
There's a slight bump on the bridge of my nose. Barely shows, but it's there. The after-effect of a stupid thought... One where I got the impression for a fleeting second that my life had some value.
I bring my hand up to it and press down.
Hard.
It doesn't hurt.
I touch the bruise on my cheek.
Carefully.
It doesn't hurt. Harder. I can't feel a thing.

I open the cabinet.
Toothpaste.
I unscrew the cap and squeeze some into my mouth. I don't know why.
It doesn't taste like spearmint.
Mouthwash, hair gel, Q-tips, a nail clipper, shaving cream.
At least seven different bottles of pills.
Advil.
The others marked 'Michael'.
They aren't mine.
I don't open them.
A razor and a pair of scissors.
The blade isn't removable.
I take the scissors, put them down, and close the cabinet.
I pinch my forearm.
Nothing.
I put my hand on the edge of the sink and smash it as hard as I can with the other one. My entire body is numb. I grab the scissors. I hold them up, my hand still where it was, and bring them down, boring into my flesh.
Blood.
Nothing else.

I drop the scissors into the sink.
I turn on the cold water. I look back into the mirror. I'm pale. I lean in.
My eyes...
I look deep into the black and feel numb pain creep slowly up from my hand. I focus, zoning into the dark. A small glimmer of something... I don't know what, but something.
That's all I needed.
I feel better, I'm still human.

I have toothpaste in my mouth.
I spit.
The white foam slips down the side of the sink and slowly gets swallowed by the water.
Sucked in.
I put my hand under the tap.
Freezing.
I wait for the bleeding to slow. I stare into the mirror, waiting. My hand should be hurting from the coldness of the water.
I pinch my forearm again.
I'm awake.
I look at my hand.
It's still there.
I close the tap.