Grey drops stream down the lines on her contorted face. Her nose is scrunched up, eyes shut tight, trying to block out what she's seen, hoping to make it disappear. She digs her fingernails further into her sides, then pulls them away, sticky, covered in freshly drawn blood. Her legs quiver and shake until they buckle and she falls to her knees. Head down, she cries out, praying someone will hear her this time. She continues to shake and once more breaks skin with her angry fingernails. The tears pull the mascara off her eyelashes and drag it down to form dark half circles under her eyes, from which more black tears flow. She lifts her eyelids and her ocean blue eyes stare at the mirror. Her hands grasp the counter and she forces herself to her feet again, knocking over the quarter-full, sickly orange pill container by the sink in the process. Her piercing gaze meets the one staring back at her and the tears stop. She gazes at the glass for not a second more before they start again, gushing out like rapids. With violently shaking hands she scoops up the pills and throws them into her mouth. She falls again as the last capsule slides down her throat.