Break Stuff

Something I whipped up just now. Enjoy

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Ever have one of those mornings? The kind where you look in the mirror and no longer recognize yourself. On mornings like that, I stare at the stranger in the mirror and wonder what his story is, how he got to be in my bathroom with my face. I want to ask him why his eyes are blood shot and why he looks like the world has crumbled. He's not supposed to feel that way... I'm not supposed to feel that way.

I throw the tooth brush holder at the bathroom mirror and the glass sprays in a thousand different directions. Three of the shards nick my face... nick the stranger's face. I smirk, that condecending one that I get when I know I'm right and the other person is wrong. I win, I destroyed the stranger, except that he's hiding in the next mirror.

By noon, I've successfully destroyed ever single mirror I own. I've even swept up the glass and thrown it away so that the stranger can't jump out of the shards. My smile returns. It's been weeks since I've done that. No smiles, no happiness. Those things are reserved for the good people of the world. And I'm not one of those good people.

Sure everyone down at the Truckstop thinks I'm a saint. They've even taken to calling me 'Preach,' pretty soon everyone in town used that name for me too. They only see what I let them. Nobody wants to see what's under the surface. That would scare them.

Stacey Lee has tried. I don't even let her in anymore.

I wipe my hand across my face. It's been nearly a week since I've shaved. No one says anything, no one will say anything. Not on a day like today. I turn twenty-one as of 5:23 this afternoon. Stacey Lee is supposed to take me some place tonight. She joked around a couple of years ago about taking me drinking on my twenty-first birthday, she never reckoned I'd take her up on it.

But today I will. It's one of those days where I don't want to follow the rules anymore. I'll leave in a few minutes. Stacey Lee will be at the Truckstop, she's always at the Truckstop.