I shut the door, and double-checked to make sure that I had locked it. Walking to my bed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bureau mirror. I wanted to keep walking and pretend that nothing happened, but something inside of me couldn’t. I usually pushed it away, and pulled out something within me to keep going like nothing happened. This time, I walked to the mirror without resisting the urge to turn away. I don’t know if I was just too tired of pretending that I was okay, or if I wanted to face that image in the mirror. I felt as though all of my resolve to fight to be happy had drained out of me, leaving me tired and alone. I felt defeated, like a wounded soldier on the battlefield with nothing but dead comrades around him, knowing that there was no one there to rescue him. I felt like that soldier, half dead but still alive knowing that his wounds were too severe to survive without help. I was that hopeless soldier, slowly feeling the life drain from my body and knowing that there was no one there to save me.
As gruesome as it sounds, this jolt of reality is an important component to her psyche. In my next posting, Emily will reach inward to find strength. A seed will be planted. How that seed grows will fuel the rest of the story.