Her picture in the mirror seemed to be unreal. This woman wasn't her. Couldn't be her. The bursted lip. The dried up blood spatters in her face. The formerly white and now blood soaked summer dress. The dark blue, nearly black, and swollen right eye. From her perfectly drawn black eyelid line were only some dark smudged lines left. Her preferred eyeliner from Shiseido, which had let look her so perfect and so beautiful yesterday, turned her into a monster over night. She was only a shadow of herself now.
"This is not me!"
She stared into the strange face in the mirror, and that face just stared back.
A parallel universe had just to exist. An other world, in which she was staying in front of the mirror, brushing her hair with a smile and where she was happy. Tears run down over her cheeks. Tears of the lack of comprehension. Tears of fear. Tears of desperation - tears of hate.
The view from her deformed self in the mirror averting, she groped after her scalpel. But she felt no pain. There was a huge and deep wound in her leg. The blood was running down and built a small puddle round her foot. Again and again she dragged the cold blade through her naked skin. Nothing. Just emptiness. There was no sign of the usual relief. The blade felt down. She left the bathroom.
Beside her bed cowering on the cold floor, she was reflecting the past night. How could he have done that? How could she have let him do that? Has she ever been happy together with him?
Certainly they had spent good and beautiful hours together, but they had often fought together as well. Way too often. She couldn't remember, when he had caused her physical pain for the first time. It must have been a long time ago in the past...
Lately, it happened more and more often, that he was hurting her. That he vent his wrath on her. All his accumulated aggressions. Why, she didn't know.
She thought of her best friend, who told her on the phone recently, that she would not recognize her: "I've always looked up to you. You've always been my role model. What happened?! Why do YOU of all people acquiesce that?!" She didn't know an answer. When did this negative metamorphosis start? In former times she didn't acquiesce something from anyone.
She was deeply astonished by the fact, that Vanessa, her best friend, looked up to her. She admired her all the time. Vanessa was such a strong woman and she was so proud of being friends with this "amazon". But now? She was nothing! Because of HIM she had turned away from her friends. Even her horse she had turned away her back, because of her boyfriend was more important. Her boyfriend. Her first boyfriend. Everyone wanted him, but she has got him! And now? What did she has now? Nothing. She had a violent and hot-tempered goon, who had found his true love in cigarettes and alcohol. She couldn't explain, why she was together with such a person for such a long time. What happened with her? She had given him all her love, but it was never enough. She had done everything for him, but it just was not enough. She always had bowed to him. He wanted it that way. He was the lord. He was in authority - always. Contradiction meant torture. She had learned that slowly and painful. She had never lied nor cheated on him. He lied constantly and had some affairs, what she had suspected. Later on, her suspicion should be confirmed. She learned of all his girls and was able to uncover some lies. When she had spoken to him about that, he lost control of his temper, denied everything and threw her one of his combat boots in the face. Despite the pain, she had dared, even presumed to counter something. The answer came in a flash hurtled towards her - in the form of his fist, which gouged between her ribs and his combat boots, with whom he had beaten her until the darkness of unconsciousness occurred her.
While she thought further about it, she took off her stiff summer dress. In some places it stuck on her skin. Stucket the clotted blood. Back in the bathroom she stood unter the shower. The cold water was a blessing. She washed the blood out of her hair and from her skin. She wanted to clean herself. She wanted to wash herself free of her past and so she remained for 50 minutes under the cooling water jet.
Despite of her injuries, the woman, who was now staring at her in the mirror, didn't look broken and desperate anymore. Something had changed. The eyes of the woman in the mirror shone full of joie de vivre. On her face was a smile of trimuph. In her mind she saw the last pictures of her ex boyfriend. How his motionless body lay on the sofa. He had no more power over her. He was no more the lord over her.
In the mirror cabinet was still the "murder weapon", which she had to destroy. So she unscrewed the lid of the small dark glass bottle and poured the deadly rest into the toilet. The bottle landed in the trash can. To see was the white label added with the beautifully curved writing "Wolfsbane". Beside lay a book with the title "The deadliest plants of Europe".
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