The Broken Mirror

This story is Mature themed and contains sensitive content including mental health and substance abuse

Scarlett rises before dawn, during the still of the early morning, ahead of the shrill ring of her alarm. She stares out the window to her right, attempting to predict the time through the darkness of the closed blinds, without the assistance of her cellphone. She knows the blue light will disrupt her circadian rhythm and then she will never be able to get back to sleep.

The night is mostly silent. It is too early for the birds and too late for the majority of the nightly chirping insects. There doesn't appear to be any light from the outside, only the pink glow of the himalayan salt lamp on the dark mahogany dresser perpendicular to the bed she currently lay on.

The bed suits its purpose well enough, she supposed. It was extremely soft and yielded easily to the body, but this bed held two bodies and was only big enough for one of them. Even with Scarlett tucked away to the furthest edge, she noticed her lover's arm hanging off the opposite end, as he lay on his side facing away from her. “It’s too warm to cuddle,” he always said. “There’s not enough room on this thing”. 

Okay, so maybe a new, larger bed would be nice. But there wasn’t the room for that in their cramped apartment. It was already decorated to the brim with random, cute signs and knick-knacks from the dollar store, and worn but sturdy wooden furniture lifted from the side of the road. Even though the landlord wouldn’t let them paint the dirty white walls, she thought they did a pretty good job of matching themes and colors, making the apartment look purposeful, as if the couch wasn’t their only item not thrifted. 

Scarlett turned on her back, and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. If she stared for long enough, the small shadowed bumps became pictures and she could make up stories for them. Today she saw a slithering snake, and although the thought of snakes usually terrified her, this time she imagined the snake to be friendly.

He’s on his way back to his family after a long day, she thought. Squinting, she could make out a top hat and something that looked like a briefcase hanging around his slender neck. He must work in a fancy office in the city. She could imagine him, face shielded from the rain by his ridiculous top hat, as he tried to hail a taxi with no arms. She giggled as the first chirps of the birds sounded their way through the window directly behind the bed. There would be no more sleeping now,

Stumbling, as silently as possible (but not very), she made her way to the kitchen and the coffee pot, turning it on and praying she didn’t need to fill the water. No blinking light, she was in the clear. Mechanically going through the motions, she set about making her coffee. A brief glance at the stove top informed her it was four thirty in the morning. She had an hour and a half until her alarm went off, but this was not unusual. 

Scarlett always had an active mind, and once re-energized by even only two to three hours of sleep, if awakened it could not seem to shut back down so easily. Sometimes, she forgot her body existed and she was just a big, floating brain. Her beloved said she should take some generic diphenhydramine, an over-the-counter antihistamine that makes you drowsy. Scarlett told him she was on enough medication and she should be able to do something as simple as sleep all by herself. 

Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, slightly lightened with a bit of hazelnut creamer, her cellphone, a fresh pack of weed, and a blanket, she found herself in her usual wicker seat by the matching glass-topped table on the enclosed front porch. She folded her legs underneath her body and set her coffee and bowl of weed upon the table, reaching next for her pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, she took a deep inhale and held it for a moment. When she exhaled she could feel her shoulders relaxing and the smoothed out muscles of her face became lighter, not so tight.

She imagined each inhale created a swirling ball of negative energy in her stomach and with each long exhale she expelled more and more. When she opened her eyes she felt ready. This was her favorite part of the day. Embraced by her fuzzy blue blanket, she could sip on her soul-warming coffee and read fan-fiction on her phone, tuning out the world until it was time to get ready for work.

Fan-fiction was special to Scarlett. She would fall in love with a world created by a book or a TV show and when it ended, she found she couldn’t let go of how much she related or how the characters made her feel. So now she flipped through the mostly amateur stories, weeding out the too raunchy or too horribly written, leaving her with a few shining gems that she adored reading. Of course, she liked reading real books too but you had to pay for those and fan-fiction was free to the public if you didn’t mind having to skim through a lot of trash to get to the good stuff.

She took her first hit of weed, exhaling the foul smelling smoke and watching its pillowy form spread through the air, slowly coalescing into thin wisps before disappearing from the naked eye, far from where it started. She felt lighter, but not light enough. So she took another, and another, until the bowl was filled with only black ash and her head became fuzzy, but somehow more clear. She knew she shouldn’t smoke before work but it was the only thing that slowed her down enough to function properly. It was almost humorous that the only time anyone thought she was high was when she was sober.

Her first alarm sounded and she quickly dismissed it and looked up at the dawning horizon. Soon her boyfriend would be awake and then he would be gone to work for the day and she would get ready to follow suit. Her first cup of coffee was completed, along with two chapters in her new story, so she made her way inside for another cup.

She was much more aware this time as she walked through the living room, down the hallway and to the kitchen. She avoided hitting the furniture but succeeded in throwing her right shoulder into the cork board loaded with mini polaroid photos in the hallway. A photo fell and she heard the sound of a thumb tack rolling across the wooden floor, but she ignored it, along with the dull ache in her shoulder. She always cleaned when she got home from work and would fix it then. Coffee always came first, even if it was her second cup. She only had a few more moments of peace before the day began and she intended to use as much of it as possible on the front porch.

Too soon, she finds herself kissing the lips of her paramour, bidding him a good day with a light squeeze of his ass. Knowing she will be late if she doesn't, she quickly repacks the bowl with weed, takes three hits in quick succession, and returns indoors to get ready for work. It's something she does as quickly as possible, grabbing the first pair of scrubs she sees and ripping through her thick, wavy brown hair with a brush. She throws it into a ponytail and zips through brushing her teeth and washing her face, slowing only to apply her facial serums because she has a fear of aging just like the rest of the world. 

Her final alarm sounds through the house and she’s off looking for her phone before it wakes the upstairs neighbors of her two family apartment. It is thrown haphazardly on the bed as usual and she scrambles to hit dismiss. There is only one more thing to do before she leaves: she must take her medicine. She holds five pills in her palm. Two oval shaped capsules, a larger oval shaped tablet, a yellow circle tablet, and a teensy white circular tablet. This is what keeps her normal, sane, working in more ways than one. She grabs the glass of stale water on the bedside table and gulps them all in one before grabbing her keys and turning for the door.

Her car is average. Like her, nothing special. Just an old, red SUV with all the wear and tear of its seventeen years of life. But it works and that’s all she needs. She has many more years of wear and tear than that and she works just fine too. You can’t throw something away just because it’s getting older.

Scarlett climbs into the driver's seat and buckles her seatbelt. As she does every morning, she adjusts her rearview mirror, lifting it slightly upwards. Satisfied, she lights a cigarette, turns on the radio, and backs out of the long driveway slightly later than she should be but at the same time as always. 

**********

The work day is over and Scarlett is grateful. Gravity has worn on her body and she can feel her feet dragging as she walks to her parked car. Her limbs feel tired, feet aching at the soles. She always parks at the farthest edge of the lot, seeking anonymity during her lunch hour but regretting it when it's time to leave for the day. It is possible she is walking with a slight limp. But soon, she remembers, she will be home and in the arms of her significant other and the harshness of the day will fall away.

She enters the drivers side and buckles her seatbelt. Checking her mirrors again, she adjusts. For some reason she feels she has to do this every time she drives nowadays. This time, she points the rearview mirror farther down, as the weight of gravity hardens her attempt, weaving into the muscles of her arms. Officially able to see out the back window, she lights a cigarette, turns on the radio, and backs out of her parking space, navigating for home. 

**********

She is in her car again, gripping the worn leather of the steering wheel tightly. Night has fallen completely and the surrounding neighbors lights are out. She spent the better part of three hours cooking something resembling a balanced meal and cleaning, both the apartment and herself. And when she finally sat her weary bones on the L-shaped couch, she looked over to see her lover asleep on the other side, his dirty dinner dishes scattered along the coffee table. Though her body protested, she stood and brought the dishes to the sink.

And then she paced. Unsure what to do, she opened the fridge, then closed it. Then opened it again, never actually processing what she saw inside. She walked the length of the apartment and back again. She hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him about her day and to ask about his, like they usually do. There just aren't enough hours in the day, she supposed, wondering absently.

That's how she finds herself in her car again. This time she is on her way to the liquor store. Luckily, there is one closeby. She never checked her mirrors, she realizes as she pulls straight into a spot directly in front of the entrance. She can see only the dingy, gray-carpeted roof of her car through her rearview. Shaking her head she adjusts the mirror before entering the store. 

She puts on a smile and goes through the unnecessary motions of pretending to look when really she knows exactly what she wants. Scarlett waves at the familiar gentleman at the counter and makes small talk as he bags her two items: red wine and cigarettes. She didn't need to tell him which cigarettes, he pulled them out as soon as he saw her. She smiles and thanks him before pushing open the door.

Her smile has vanished when the cool night air reaches her face and she trudges back to her vehicle. When she looks in her rearview mirror she realizes it has moved again and she sees the roof once more. The weight of gravity returns to her heavy limbs as she adjusts the mirror again before driving home to drink the weight away. 

As the bitter wine enters her mouth and runs down her throat, she thinks. She thinks hard. This is the happiest she’s ever been. And it has to be enough. She has a good job, a cozy place to live, and (most importantly) an amazing and loving boyfriend that supports her. The only thing she is missing is a normally functioning brain. But that’s what the meds are for. And they are working. She knows she is better than before. This is the happiest she’s ever been and the happiest she will ever be. It has to be enough. It is enough.

The next morning, her limbs are light as she adjusts the mirror again. It is too far down and she can see the door of the trunk. She tilts it upwards as she does every morning and wonders if she has to get her mirror replaced.