Standing in front of her full-length mirror in the bathroom touching her swollen right eye gingerly and wincing each time, Lily could not help, but question its authenticity. “It looks, fake,” she said examining it. Deciding to test the theory she touched it a little harder. Crying out instantly she fanned her hand in front of it chuckling at her own stupidity. “Doesn't feel fake, stupid twat,” she said then giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “I don't think I ever called myself a twat before,” Lily said trying to remember if she watched any BBC recently. Still amused she reached for the cloth lying on the facet and recoiled while her back screamed in pain. Moving closer to the sink by way of baby steps she let the hot water drown the cloth.
Learning her lesson painfully she decided to just stay in front of the mirror above the sink. Taking the cloth that was beginning to dam up the bowl and wringing it out she began to pat it over her lips. She followed the trail slowly. Letting it soak and flake off naturally rather than forcing it. Gingerly she guided it over the stale blood and then cautiously over the large bubble that formed on part of her lip. Noticing the stains went in two directions she finished off her chin area then pursued a little that splattered across her cheek. Running the cloth under the water again she noticed blood trailing down her neck where it jumped onto her top making little spatters, ruining it.
Then Lily caught it in the corner of the mirror. Her almost perfect red bloody hand print seemed to wave at her from the white wall behind her. Was it saying good-bye or welcoming her back?
Staring at herself in the mirror she became angry knowing the women staring back at her was practically a stranger. Deciding to give the reflection a smile she took pity at the swollen face smiling back. “Don't want to see you, no more,” she said suddenly feeling sad. It was time to leave and...