#zeph.rambles

He had honestly tried to blame this on someone else, saying that he had no clue how it started nor why it was happening, "Trying to study it" even as nothing more than another excuse to not confront [that which stared back in the mirror].

As much as he tried to convince them alongside himself that it was getting better, there was never enough time between it and there was nothing much that could be done as the stone roof was replaced by its cold embrace in an instant. It had become familiar at some point.

The blinding light pointed at his eyes was the only mercy he had been granted, as the blood soaked shirt started to cling to his skin. He knew better than to glance down and look; he'd learnt that fairly quickly after the third time this had happened. Or had it been the tenth?

He remembers having tried to keep himself busy to avoid this happening, to avoid another visit but each time he had been dragged back to this place. Careful of not looking down, he tried his best to feel around for it, hoping this time it was nearby and he wouldn't need to get up.

Looking back, he wonders if maybe something could have changed if he hadn't been there that day, if maybe he had done something different. He could see his vision getting blurrier as his hand grasped around nothing, it was probably taken after the last time.

No matter how many times he'd gone through this, it didn't make any easier. Avoiding looking at it least lessened the sensation of air hitting his insides, acknowledging made it worse.

Hand trembling, he pushed himself up into a sitting position to try getting a better look around, didn't want to risk staying more than necessary. Harder to do without it falling out.

As bright as the light previously shining into his eyes had been, it didn't do a good job at illuminating the room. Wouldn't make much of a difference either way, as he already knew what to do as soon as his eyes had landed on the full body mirror nearby.

Stumbling his way towards the mirror, he didn't even give a glance at the figure resembling him staring down mockingly, before punching the glass. His vision was getting darker, ears ringing but he could faintly make out a commotion outside. Time was running out.

He had done this before, but it didn't make it less terrifying as he sifted through the glass shards for the sharpest one, ignoring the approaching footsteps. One shaking movement was all it took.