With the beginning of a new day, she sensed herself dying. The occasional glimpse into the mirror had revealed someone she was oblivious to, yet the mirror reflected what she was, who she was. A quick gaze illustrated the proportions of a slender adolescent woman however; a far more intensive investigation would reveal something much darker. In the glare of the light, only she could fabricate the concentrate, raw pain in her eyes, only she could taste the sharp, salty waters of her failures, only she could see beyond the concrete of a shimmering façade. In the mirror, she saw herself, the way no one else did or ever will, she saw the truth, the realism and it threw her to her knees. Darkened eyes invaded her face; they used to sparkle in a time when she possessed the moon. Now the moon eluded her and the sparkle that once adorned that beaut disappeared into the black regions of nothing.