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She’s over there. Standing and staring at me with blue eyes just like mine, but all too wide and maddening. Long, greasy hair trails to her knees, knotted and unkempt with patches ripped from her scalp.  Her body flickers between a vision of starvation and the bloated teenage bulimic.  Meanwhile, dark tears roll from her swollen eyelids and down her icy cheeks. She begins to whisper. At first, I can ignore her, push her away as no more than the wind. Yet the hushed tones soon turn feverous, into clashing masses of violent regret and panic. When I finally turn to look at her, she is screaming. Her mouth hangs open as she crouches on all fours, relishing my vulnerability. I want her to stop but she crawls along the floor toward me, her gaping mouth twisting into a horrid screaming smile. At my feet, I look down into her empty eyes, as she wraps her freezing hands around my ankles. She pulls them from under me and I am down. With the weight of everything that has come before, she is on my chest and screaming into my soul. I break and snap beneath her. I scream as evil agreement falls from my mouth. I am her and she is mine. 