Sometimes mirrors just show you a pretty face. And sometimes they show you your dark soul.
Sometimes, they split you into a thousand pieces. And you can't even pick those pieces from the floor, because you too, are one of the fallen ones.
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Touch me. Nikki implores the woman in the mirror to do that. She wants her to touch every fibre of her body, softly and sensually.
What she finds are her own care-worn hands caressing her belly, slowly snaking down to that sensitive spot.
Taste me. Jessica laughs at Nikki's agony. Nikki thinks she's a fragment of her imagination, but Jessica is not surreal, she is a sliver of reality.
Jessica moans in pleasure as Nikki brings her slick coated hands to her mouth, and tastes her with her tongue.
Please don't do this to me. Nikki's face is contorted with pain, as she feels another person exhale through her nose, another person's taste on her tongue, another person's heart beating within her own.
But you are me, aren't' you? Jessica mocks Nikki and forces her to touch herself again. Jessica hates to see her sister in pain, but she has to teach her, to control her.
We both are Nikki. And Jessica too.
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She finds comfort in DL's arms at night. She just wants to touch him, and feel him today. And make him realize that he isn't a broken splinter from the debris of her past.
She wants to have a child with him, and seal her fate.
He begins feeling her skin with his rough, calloused hands. Nikki revels in his touch, but it is so wrong. She needs softer hands to touch her, like Jessica does.
She needs Jessica with her, right now, and not the man she loves. For Jessica can set her body on fire, and douse the flames just as quickly.
He straddles her body, and gently enters her. She accepts him with her heart.
But not your soul.
Nikki's bones chill with the voice that comes from inside her, and with the sin of dark lust. Jessica's face accosts her in the mass of molten sea-sand, and draws her away to bliss.
And suddenly she's trapped again, and she is set free.
And at that climactic moment, Jessica conceives a child, and not Nikki.
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There is only a thin line separating Jessica and Nikki. A line covered with blood, lust and pain.
A line created by years of being half- alive and dead.
They are gone, the child that Jessica conceived, and Nikki bore, and the man that she loved, and the man that she hated.
This time, as she touches herself, Nikki feels no wrong. This time, when she tastes Jessica's sweetness, she doesn't feel icy guilt cascading over her back.
Because finally, the string connecting them is breaking and tying itself into knots.
Bonding them as Nikki and as Jessica too.
This time, they are not sisters or alter egos, but one.
Simply one.
One.