For Her

Each second passed so slowly. She could not think, because that hurt as badly as anything else. Every breath stung like bitter cold in her lungs. There was nothing, nothing but pain in every part of her. Needles across her skin and daggers in her eyes, hammers and bowling balls in her head. Her ears ached inside and out. Her skin felt pulled tight across rows of molars jutting out from her muscles. Every so often, she would stop breathing, just stop so that she could have that moment of peace. Each time she did, there was a single moment, and then her head pounded as though someone had thrown a rubber ball into her skull and was letting it bounce back and forth, and she had to start breathing again to get it to abate. Tears streamed steadily and slowly from one eye, across her cheek and down to the already damp pillowcase. The lights were off, the curtains drawn, and yet still it seemed painfully bright. No matter how she tossed or turned, the comfort of movement was swiftly followed by the pain of falling still again. She longed for everything to just stop. Or at least for her heart to stop, for each pulsing beat tugged her skin taught like a traveling bruise. Maybe if her heart stopped, she would finally get a moment's rest, finally stop being so aware of how much it hurt to simply exist. She could not be sure of how much time had passed. Her only mark was that Faith would come up to her every day for a while, to offer her food and drink and to talk to her. She hadn't seen Faith in a long while, but surely she was simply overestimating the passage of time. That was easy to do in her position, and frankly, she did not want to think about it, because thinking hurt, too. She opened her eyes, and then shut them again, tight. Faith would come back eventually. When she did, it would mean another day had passed. There would be water, and maybe that would stop the nausea clawing at her stomach. She couldn't think. She couldn't... couldn't think. Couldn't think. So awake. Why? Sleep. She wanted to sleep. Why was she awake? So very awake, so, so awake. Couldn't think. Think. Couldn't. Coo-dent. L. Coodent think. Think. Think. Think! A weak, strangled sob came from her throat, and that hurt too, but it was all she could do. She needed help, help, anything. Anyone. Water. It was a new low, but every moment the pain seemed only to grow worse until suddenly she sat upright with a jerk, leaned over the side of the bed, and vomited into a pail stationed for that exact purpose. Her stomach wrenched. She fell back on the pillow, shaking like a leaf in a wind-storm. In that moment, Mirror was the perfect prey. She was weak and helpless, and she was all alone in a world that didn't want her. Faith shut the door and let the knob rotate slowly, then stepped back. A wicked grin formed on her face as she turned and walked back down the hall, back down the stairs, and then out of the front door. From the hook she snagged Mirror's cloak and threw it over herself, even pulling up the hood... ...on her way out the door.