The mirror never lies. That is why she never looks into it. But it’s high-time she faced herself and the damage he’d done. Gaining courage from the blood-stained porcelain sink, she looks up at a battered version of herself. A left eye is swollen shut, a tear sqeezing past burried eyelashes. Her lip is split and bleeding. Her cheeks are bruised, black, and blue.
She weeps.
The razor blade glints in the afternoon sunlight, peeking through the half-opened bathroom window. Her trembling fingers reach for it, and stop.
No! She won’t. Not for him! Not because of him! Why martyr him!
The only way she can stay in this world, is to walk right out the door! Leave!!
“You’ll never touch me again. Or see me!” she offers herself a small grin, “I’ll just become invisible!”
She turns from her reflection and makes for the bedroom. She packs a bag with essentials and makes for the kitchen.
Dousting the pilot light on the stove, she turns the gas on, lights a candle, and walks out the door.
The explosion was glorious.