You stand in front of the mirror, wondering where everything went wrong.
You used to be so put together, so strong, so outgoing.
Now, you're just a shell of that person.
Nothing remained of her except the outside appearance.
You were a murderer, you thought.
Because you killed the girl you used to be.
A glass wall seperates you from the rest of the world.
One that was built up by you the same night she died.
No one was allowed to see you completely.
That would mean that they would know who you are,
They would know that you were a killer and a murderer - a monster in human form.
But you have to let them see something (hence the glass).
They want to know something about you, so you give them just enough to keep them occupied.
That'll stop them from asking questions.
And questions are not something you would want.
You can't let the facade of dedicated student, loving girlfriend, and cheery best friend slip.
If you do, you aren't sure what would happen.
That boy had broken you far more completely than you could have even imagined.
The things he did to you physically, emotionally and mentally were things that not even the sickest of humanity could have come up with.
And the little hand that comes up to you to hold yours only reminds you of that day.
It doesn't matter if he's yours or not.
He could of been.
You love the little one and you aren't afraid to admit it,
But you are ashamed of yourself for even considering him, the little angel that he is, something that you might have killed along with yourself those years ago.
You can't let any of that show.
Not one single little bit.
Because if you do, then he wins.
So you hide behind the pane of glass, holding your little boy's hand and remain seperate from the world.
The world that you just can't bear to live in anymore.