Memories

She can’t breathe; she can only cry. Her tears glide sideways across her face, up and over her nose. They leave cold, wet trails in their wake before dripping onto her pillow and soaking into the fabric.

She feels like she’s dying, gasping for breath, choking against the lump in her throat. She can’t stop herself. Coughing sobs shake her to the core as she curls up into a ball. She closes her eyes and wishes for the end of this pain, until her eyes run dry and her sobs subside.

She walks with heavy footsteps to the mirror where a mess of a girl stares back at her. Her face is red, her eyes bloodshot.

                             pathetic
                                                                                 disgusting
                                               weak

The words bounce around her skull.
Turning from the mirror, she walks slowly back to bed. With each footstep, she can feel the calm coming back to her. The tremors stop, her breathing is normal again; the only trace of her breakdown is her reddened eyes.

By the time she climbs back into bed and closes her eyes, she has returned to numbness; she shuts out the world when the lights turn off. Emptiness fills her as she drifts into sleep’s sweet embrace, where she can dream but never remembers.

She doesn’t want to remember.