Im staring in the mirror again. I don't know what to do with that face staring back at me. I HATE IT, i hate looking into those shifty eyes. I know he wants to fight me, i know that if that man on the other side of the mirror was here now he'd be trying to kill me. Luckily the glass prevents him from coming to my side.

I just stare blankly at the mirror

That can't be me. I dont look like that at all, im strong, im smart, im pretty, im fucking invincible, not this stranger staring back at me. I pull out my knife and hold it to my own throat, slowly pushing the blade into the soft spot on the bottom of my jaw, not enough to break the skin, yet, just enough so that bastard in the mirror does it to, because i know he mimics my every move. He wants to be me, but hes not me, he cant be me, i should push the knife in deep and across the throat and watch him bleed out and writhe on the floor, ha!, thatd serve him right for mimicing me. I push the knife deep enough to draw the tiniest bit of blood. Im playing this goddamn game of chicken with the man in the mirror again, i always loose this game, i puss out and put the knife away and he laughs at me, knowing he wins again. He will always win. I hate that man in the mirror staring back at me.