"the smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes"
I'm Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally
Nine Inch Nails

Awake. I look around, listening to the steady whir of a slowly dying A/C. The monotonous tick as an old clock continues to count the time I have stolen.. The sickly wet sound of the tap dripping, the sound of fading rain hitting earth. I can hear my pulse throbbing in my temples.

I fell asleep on the kitchen floor again...or maybe I simply woke up here. I always seen to crawl in here in the middle of the night. My body wracked by fever and convulsing in tremors. I curl up on the grimy floor pressing myself against the cold hard floor. I can never get enough of the brittle contrast between my being and the wood. I love the cold, I like to pretend it to be one of the many minor retributions I've thrust upon myself to try to pay back for all the horrible things I have done.

I stretch out on the floor. Grimacing every time my spine pops. The sounds seem to echo, but I know they're not, I'm just looking for something else to occupy this place. I curl back on my side, lying on my arm. I put my other hand on the floor palm flat. I close my eyes so I can feel all the grit and dirt under my skin. I roughly rack my hand across the floor and wish it would make me bleed.

I stand up and balance on unsteady legs. I slowly walk through the hall, swaying on my numb limbs, clutching onto the walls looking for purchase. I come upon a mirror framed in wrought iron the spirals and twists delicately but nonetheless hold it precariously perched upon the frame. I reach out towards it with a shaking hand to touch the layer of dust and grime that has collected on its once pristine surface, a sign of the neglect that has taken over the house. I quickly wipe away the dust leaving swirls of clear mirror in the wake of my hand.

I look at myself in the mirror for the first time sense I've come back to this wreak of a place. The oceanic swirls of scars running down my arms and chest. I watch myself in the mirror as I touch the fading scars on my arm, feel the different textures created by the same thing that made me lose so many things. I reach out to the mirror once more to touch on the part where there should be its own version of my own scars on its form. All I feel is the cold relentlessness of glass and I wish I were that mirror.

I've been living on stolen time for far too long. I can't live for a single day without having to remember everything I've ever done wrong. I'm constantly reminded of all the I should have done but never did and I hate myself because of it. I don't belong here anymore and never will again. Without really thinking of what I'm doing I punch the mirror and watch has it shatters and falls to the floor. My knuckles are bleeding and there are shards of glass sticking out in odd angles.

I hate the person I've become. I'm almost glad you aren't here to see my like this. I've fallen apart. I'm so irrevocably damaged there is no way I can be put back together. I'm lost and can't find a my way back.

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Author's Note:
Short stories aren't really my forte, but every once in a while I'll delve into one.
The idea for this popped into my head and haunted me for weeks until I finally had the balls to write it.
I always think there's something a little off when I write stories
so I don't blame you if you don't like the way I write.
Review if you want.