Mildred
SLEEPTALK
I stared at my reflection in the mirror by the vanity countertop in the bathroom.
I was void of any feeling. There was no disgust, nor regret. All I knew was that my black tresses had gone down and were now dyed out to this offensive brown bobbed hair which made me a little bit skinnier than I actually was.
I looked at my eyes. My hazel eyes were perfect, these honey-brown eyes made it disturbing for me to look at.
My stomach built, and I felt the need to throw up. The disgust in the pit of my stomach rose back to my gut threatening to spill.
This wasn't me. This wasn't who I was. How did I get here? Where did I go wrong to have the goddess take my life from me?
When the need to throw up was consuming, I dashed to the toilet and emptied my bowels. I strengthen
