Snake Eyes

Emily sits cross-legged in front of her closet and stares into the mirror door trying to find her face. Since the overhead light is switched off all she has to work with is scattered moonlight, so she tries focusing harder, intent on studying the features of the girl stuck there—in the shadows—filling up the space where her own face should be.

Emily lifts her eyebrow

and watches as the girl does the same.

She snarls

and the girl copies.

Suddenly, from behind her bedroom door, Emily hears a noise. They are fucking again. She doesn't mind...shouldn't mind...but she can hear his voice in her ear, telling her that whenever he fucks Lori it is like he is fucking a skeleton, he tells her that he can see how she, Emily, looks at people, notices things, that she's different. The memory causes her to stand up so quickly she sways like a drunk; then she rushes for the door checking frantically, quietly, that it is still locked. And as the groaning gets louder all she can do is to sit back down and resume the search for her eyes, her lips, her nose, none of which she can seem to find in the scattered moonlight.