Subconscious. She stood in front of the mirror, evaluating herself, from her wide set hips to the 6'1'' figure. She gave a look of disapproval. Slowly, she traced her jawline, then followed the soft arches of her cheek bones. Lowering her hand, she looked into her own eyes. A soft sapphire with subtle specks of jade. She noted that her eyes were the kind that always seemed on the brink of tears. As if they had been trained to expect it at any moment.
She shut her eyes and lay her head against the mirror, and carefully felt of her chest. She felt the deep abrasions and for a moment was back again. In the middle of it all, the fighting and screaming, her personal war. She had kept her eyes shut then, too. Not having to live with the images of what was happening around her was the only protection she could give herself. But the sounds, they echoed in her dr
Part 1. Click, click, click, the teacher drummed her nails on the front podium. My hand flew from question to question, in a futile race against my mind. I pause, bite my lip, then throw my pencil down. I was drawing an absolute blank, had my hand won? Or just gotten so far behind that my mind forgot the race all together. I stared at the question a few moments longer, then it came to me. I scribbled the answer on the paper and turned it in. Returning to my desk, I lean back and close my eyes. 105, I thought proudly, has to be a record. I let my mind drift off, then before I knew it I had returned to my alternate reality. My sanctuary.
The soft, early morning light gave a the room a whole different color. The harsh white walls were cream colored and the powder blue sheets seemed much warmer. I lay my head on the silky cushion