She swiftly paces before the massive looking glass, scratching at the scar on her palm that has begun to heal. She stands still for a moment, and suddenly bursts into manic laughter. "Go now, regret later. I am not mad. I am she who sways the rabbit. Think later, not soon. Think. Think thoughts of tea and hearts. Think of thinking." she breaks the skin of her scar and smiles down at the warm liquid trickling out of the gash.

She looks at her reflection. Her lips are stained with blood, her greasy blonde curls are matted to her forehead, the puffed, dark circles under her mad blue eyes contrast with her white skin, her bones poke at her thin skin, and her scars, oh her lovely scars, are ever present, shining against the light of the fading sun. Her mad eyes stare at the blood. A slow smile appears on her lips. She swiftly reaches down to the warmth, and gathers some blood on her fingertip. She grins at the natural paint, and begins to write on the walls.

"Odds and ends of my life. Smiles here, sex there, trickery everywhere!" she giggles and doodles of her past. When the blood dries on her finger, she pinches the scar and lets blood flow onto the red stained fingertip. "I am not mad. I am simply loosing my mind." she draws a enormous grin, its lips curling at the ends. She draws a bloody rose, the symbol of sudden death. A simple pocket watch here. A cloud of smoke there. The door that tricked her. The pastry that saved her. Splashes of agony surrounding the happy pictures. Harsh words illuminate her path. Her virtue is taken at the base of the tree. And all of a sudden, she stops. She momentarily focuses her roaming eyes on a simple drawing. A hat. Not just any hat, though. A top hat.

She stops her actions and wipes the blood on her apron. The hat he wore, all day every day. She falls to the floor, crumbling like her dead insides, and curls into a defensive ball, rocking to and fro. She sees flashes of him. Flash! Bright green eyes. Flash! White skin. Flash! A purple velvet coat. Flash! Cool skin, so close to her. Flash! Strong hands, holding her close. Flash! Red, red lips, so close... Flash!

It's all gone.

She suddenly cries out, eyes insane, and crawls to the looking glass. She presses her hands to it, looking in as if it were a window rather than a reflection of her hollow shell. She gathers all the strength she has. She closes her eyes, concentrating, breaking past the walls of madness that compress her into her body. She bites her lip, drawing her soul in. Her toes and fingers curl in, her legs cramp. She whimpers as a ice pick is driven into her brain. It hurts to think. But she tries. Her sweaty body trembles, her bones pressing against her tight skin, as she murmurs, softly, the four simple words.

"Come and get me."

She releases herself. The mad walls push her into herself once again. Her body spasms as she once again smiles. "Madness is an understatement. Mad, mad insanity, everywhere and nowhere. Shall I go here or there, madman?" she singsongs. Her fingernails scratch at the wooden floors uselessly. A giggle bubbles out of her mouth. "Madman, madman, where is the head pan?" she presses her knees together and juts her tongue out. "Rabbut, oh Mister Rabbut must join this funeral!" she bangs her head into her knee, until tears spring out of her eyes, and she passes out.

"Oh, dear raven, why must they compare you to such a boring piece of furniture?" she murmurs as the dark sea snatches her away.