Stopping at the filthy sink in the small bathroom he leaned over it to look himself over in the dirt-stained mirror.
Staring into the eyes of his own reflection he grimaced at the now reddish-violet orbs that held their usual empty void of pain and despair and his pale face wearing its constant forlorn expression that stared back at him.
Eyeing his features all over in the mirror he lightly scoffed. His skin that was once fair had turned to a ghostly-pale color from the lack of sun, and his clothes looked slightly wrinkled and worn-out as if they hadn’t seen a washer in months. He had become this way from spending most of his time in his darkened room. He can't really recall the last time he left his room. His mind was foggy and clouded from the few rum bottles and isolation he had drowned himself in, in order to try and push away the pain of loneliness.
How many times had looked into that mirror, expecting to at least see one sign of improvement? There never were any improvements in his depression. The only thing he ever saw when he looked into his reflection anymore was that startling old looking face with a cold stare.
Standing up straight and taking a deep breath, he looked at the mirror one last time before speaking one simple name that brought back so many memories.
He spoke slowly and deeply. His voice sounded melancholy and weary like it hadn't been used in many ages.
"Hey, pal... what is it?"
A strained smile crossed his lips. He was used to the voices in his head by now though he still hadn't been able to find out whch voices could read his mind. Hoping this one couldn't he decided to ask...
Okay, weiter kann ich gerade nicht denken...