The teenager stared at the mirror, a sickly-pale, unattractive, thing staring back at them.
Y'know, sooner or later, your looks are going to mean nothing.
The words of their sibling, their rival, the one they hated and wished would be killed and sent to hell, rang swiftly within the confides of their skull, repeating itself like a broken record that had been glued to the player yet could still play.
UGLY
They turned on the water and hunched over. The food that they had ate just minutes before the fight comes spewing out, coated in a brown, or is it green - they don't take care to notice - liquid. It spirals about the marble bowl and slips down the drain.
And they feel better.
It has been an entire week since that day and the fights and comments haven't gotten any better, as their parent and step-parent had promised it would. It's just gotten worse.
That's why they stand there, before the mirror of regret and sorrow. The item, like all its brothers and sisters, brings nothing but pain and misery to thy whom wishes to look upon it, thinking to see that angelic glow that we all wish to one day own.
And in their hand is a dagger, ready to take one more life by the will of it's holder.
In one swift move, one bite of the tongue, one squeeze shut of the eyes, and one last scream of agonizing pain, their life is ended.
The one whom the have come to love to hate knocks upon the bathroom door. They don't respond. The door opens and a scream echos throughout the house. But, for once, this one is different than every other day.
"DEREK!"