Random bit of writing
I stare into the mirror and I hate the reflection that greets my eyes. Not for the reasons most people have, like a crooked nose, the extra bit of weight around my middle, etc. No, I hate my reflection because it's a lie. The eyes, the slight smile, the relaxed hands at my reflection's side, it's all a lie.
I know within myself lies a fetid core, the diseased and putrid blood running through my veins. I know the emptiness of my soul, it eats away at me from within.
My fists ball at my side. How I tire of the lie. How that lie mocks me. No more. With what force my sickened body can muster, I shove my fist into the mirror, smashing it.
I barely register the sound of breaking glass. As if the dam was bursting, the rush of crimson running down my arms becomes a welcome sight. The lie is gone; the disease is revealed.
I know what I must do. I must expose the craven creature within. It must be seen in its truest form, for only then can I be free. I clutch the largest shard, gripping it tightly. The lie becomes my greatest weapon to obtain the truth. The cuts in the flesh reveal greater evidence, scarlet in its declaration of my base nature.
I draw the glass along my wrists and a warmth suffuses me as more of the disease within is released. Despite the welling heat, I know still, within me, there lies the larger core, the source of my disease.
Gripping the glass, I take care to not slip. I thrust the jagged edge into my body, my aim true, digging deep to reach the disease within. I can taste it as it rushes into my mouth. The sickly smell of its fills my senses. The warmth envelops me. Yes. The disease within is being exposed. It coats my body more and more in its crimson truth, each beat of my sickly heart forcing it from its hidden spaces within me.
My job done, I drop the shard, the last vestige of my devious past. The disease within is finally loosed. Such lightness surrounds me.
I am free at last.