Walking down this road again

It's happening, it's happening again

I've seen the ending for this play

But this time the ending will be changed

I cannot let him ruin everything again

I know what he's standing to gain

I know he won't stop, no matter the stakes

He's my twin, he's my double

The sweet-talking snake

I wish I never took this road

I wish I wasn't ever here at all

Scratch me out of this play

Please, I want to escape

I never wanted to bring pain

But it's happening, it's happening again

Who are you when there is no responsibility?

Who are you when you are all alone?

Who are you when there's no impunity?

Tell me, who are you when you have no self-control?

I'll tell you — you don't know

You've lied so much that now you're always lost

And every single day you're lying more and more

But you forgot that lies come with a cost

Drifting in the ocean, barely afloat

Lying in delirium in the worn out boat

I'm lost and I don't see no land

The dark-dark water takes me by the hand

Walking in the night streets, taking in the chill

Chasing after highs and living for a thrill

I'm lost but I don't give a damn

The dark-dark hunger holds me by the hand

Looking in the mirror, I see someone else

Wearing flashy smile to cover up the mess

I'm lost inside the memories of lives that I had led

The dark-dark shadows haunt the space inside my head

Everyone in town agreed the lake was haunted, but only I knew what was actually buried beneath it.

The key word being 'was'.

I will never forget the cold water filling my lungs, burning me from inside and out. I will never forget the rage, the dread, the regret that filled my entire being as I was descending into the abyss.

But in that abyss, I felt something else. Something far more dreadful. Something ancient. Primal.

And it spoke to me.

It gave me a choice. I could rest in an everlasting bliss of the lake where nothing would hurt me ever again, or I could live again. Get my revenge. Be free.

I chose vengeance.

The next thing I remember is waking up at the lakeshore. Drenched and cold, but I was alive. I looked at the lake — it was still, serene... and empty. I looked at my reflection in the water and saw a stranger looking back at me. She smiled.

"Let's go get your revenge," she said.

Tomato - vegetable? Fruit?

A question without truth.

But what I know for certain

Is that it sure ain't blue.

Marie wandered through the supermarket, going from aisle to aisle, trying to find something that would sate her strange new hunger without making her throw up moments later. The young woman knew that her search was futile, as everything (ranging from the most bland and light foods to the most convoluted dietary meals) had ended up swimming inside the toilet. On one of those occasions though, Marie had noticed that the food looked largely intact, as if her stomach simply refused to digest it.

She must've caught something really bad somewhere. That party she recently went to was the most likely culprit, as Marie still couldn't remember what happened that night, or the night after. But what in the world could make her feel like this, along with giving her a partial amnesia? Nothing that the internet could help with, that's for sure. Marie knew she had to get checked out by a doctor, but at the moment her financial and legal status prevented that from happening.

Empty-handed and disappointed, Marie walked out of the store and into the dark, dimly lit streets, slowly dragging herself along. Not wanting to return home right away, she decided to take a stroll in the nearby park. Marie hoped that the fresh air would help her clear her head, maybe even give her new ideas regarding her problem, yet the longer she went, the more anxious her thoughts became. Streetlights began to flicker hectically, and the trees around Marie seemed to grow bigger, looming over her like ill omens. She took it as a sign to go back home and turned around. That was when Marie felt someone grab her, and her mind went blank.

Next thing she knew she was standing in front of a dead man, his face frozen in horror. Marie covered her mouth with the palm of her hand, but pulled it away the moment she felt something thick and sticky. She looked at her hand and almost screamed.

Blood. Her face was covered in it. She felt it in her mouth. In her stomach. But she didn't feel sick. And most importantly, she didn't feel hungry anymore.

I stood outside of an abandoned factory. The hour was late, and so was the person I was expecting. I lit a cigarette, hiding it from the rain with the brim of my hat. Some folks would say I'm old-fashioned, even cliché, but I'm past the age of giving a rat's ass about that sorta thing. I do my job and I do it well, unlike lots of modern gumshoes. Apart from my partner, who was one of the two reasons I was standing in the pouring rain.

"What took you so long?" I asked as I took a drag.

"You have it?" The voice behind me replied.

I turned around and took out a folder from my coat's inner pocket. "Names, addresses, all the dirt. The usual."

"Does she know?" The figure reached for the folder.

I pulled my arm back. "She doesn't. And you will not hurt her."

"You know the price of that."

"I do. And you know I'll pay it."

The figure took the folder. "In due time, Hughes. Just remember – I am watching."

I took another drag of my cigarette as the figure disappeared into the night.

"As if you'll ever let me forget."

I sit in a quiet, dimly lit room in front of a blank page opened on an old laptop. My eyelids are heavy, my thoughts are slow and hollow. I take a sip of tea in hopes of refreshment, but it is cold and tasteless. I smirk as I compare it to my writing.

So many things I want to write about. So many ideas. Yet every time I try to it all just slips out of my mind and into the infinite void that our brains are too weak and primitive to grasp. I begin to hate my mind, my body, and ultimately myself, spiraling down into remembering every single mistake and bad decision that I have ever made, once again reminding myself that I am a bad person, a scum, a villain, and that maybe it would be better for everyone around me if I wasn't even born in the first place.

No. It isn't true. Not entirely, at least. I take a deep breath and recite her words. I know them to be true, because she never lied to me. I wish I did the same. Her words are like a beacon in the dark stormy ocean, a reminder that there is light inside of me, and that it was this very light that had saved her years ago, and keeps doing so to this day.

One day I'll wake up, and you'll be there again, in my arms, sleeping blissfully.

One day I'll wake up, and feel the greatest relief ever known to a living being.

One day I'll wake up, and every mistake, every hurt, every regret will become nothing but a bad dream.

One day I'll wake up, and everything will be right again.

Maybe one day I'll wake up.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Who's the wrongest of them all?

Who's the hated, who is fated

To repeat the same mistakes?

Mirror, Mirror, if you're able

Tell me all about this fable

About the girl who had it all,

Who did not fight to keep it whole.