Reflection

It's warm breath reeks of whiskey, sweeping past its crooked teeth. The creature, with brown, bloodshot, eyes, is peering within mine. Nevermind its disheveled hair, writhing and contorting over sickly pale skin radiating in the dim light. It is a parasite. A demon. The death of my desires and vanquisher of my resolve.

My ignorant curiosity causes me to reach out and grasp the nauseating creature. To my bewilderment, its sickly skin is smooth. Far too smooth. Unconsciously, my hand pans over its glassy surface before I realize what I'm staring at, is my reflection. Tears fill my eyes as I grip the half-empty bottle tight. It's at this moment, that I've regained some sense of dignity, some sense of resolve. I hurl the brown bottle, shattering the glassy surface. Its razor shards rain down to the blackened floor. My head swivels as the world around brightens into a chorus of vivid color and, for the first time, I look upon the world through diamond eyes.