Red Tinted Mirror

 A reflection. Ghostly eyes and bluish lips that are stained with red. That’s what my reflection looks like. Dead. Am I dead? Did I finally pull the plug? Is that why I feel so numb? I can’t move, all I can look at is the red tinted mirror. I can’t turn around and try to see what I’ve left behind, but I sure as hell can look through that mirror, past my reflection. Past my reflection, I can hear the steady solid beep, my heart went flat I assume. Duh. Jennie is yelling at the nurses to turn that annoying thing off. Thanks Jennie, it was annoying me too. Okay, now it’s time to search around. Where’s dear old dad? He may not know I’m gone… Eh he wouldn’t care anyways. Hold on, how did I die anyway? Did I actually slit my wrists, or did I just go ahead and let myself drown? Oh! There's my chart, that should tell me what I need to know… Hmmm, it says here:

Name: Katie L. Miller

Age: 18

Height: 5,3”

Weight: 115lbs

Diagnostics: Cystic Fibrosis, Cystic Fibrosis Related Diabetes (CFRD), Depression

COD: Slit wrist, thick mucus in lungs

Hmm, so it was both… SCORE! Now focusing back on my reflection, I look down at the bottom of the mirror and realize my wrists show white flesh, with red stains covering my hands. I still can’t move, but that's ok. I assume I’m stuck here in some sort of self-hell. Not much has changed then. I was in my own little hell when I was alive so what's the difference? The only difference I can tell is that here, I don’t have to feel the pain I felt daily. Maybe being stuck here in this mirror is worth it. Worth slicing that carpet blade up my wrist… Maybe that's what was needed. I found my own cure. 

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