Blythe
I take off my shirt and pants, left in my underwear. I can't bring myself to get naked despite what he's already seen. Pressing my palm to my forehead, elbow on the counter, I feel lightheaded. I shouldn't be here. Why am I here? I take a deep breath, trying to find answers, but none come to me. Letters shift into grawlixes. I turn off the light in the center of the ceiling but not the three above the mirror. Dim lights feel more moderate.
I catch my reflection in the mirror, noticing how some makeup has smeared under my bottom lashes. I furrow my brows, swiping it away with my fingers before standing up straight and attempting to appear proud, tensing my collarbones. How bizarre all of this is. I have a moment where I can't believe anything is real. Reality is a farce. I am n
