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The morning sun filtered through the gap in the curtains, casting a dappled light over the room. Everything was silent and still, save the shallow breathing of the two people in the bed.

Then an alarm clock cut through the silence, like a knife through butter. Liz opened her eyes slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the bright sunlight. She sat up, and turned to see Jason's eyes, open and alert, staring straight back at her.

"Morning Beth." He smiled, kissing her on the lips. "Sleep well?" He asked her. He had slept through her outburst in the night.

"I guess." She replied, her eyes falling on the white sheets. "Do you have work today?" She asked him finally, after a long pause.

Jason ran a hand through a long dark strand of Liz's hair, smiling to himself. She turned away, shaking his hand off.

"Beth.?" His eyes were questioning her actions, wondering what he had done to hurt her.

"I have to leave." She stated, standing up, and walking straight to the bathroom, without turning to look at him.

Liz shut the door behind her, and locked it. She turned on the shower, moving so that her back was against the blank white wall. Slowly, she slid down it, her body limp. When Liz had reached the floor, she pulled her knees to her chest and folded her head on top of them.

The tear snaked down her cold pale cheek, and then more followed. She let out a muffled sob, her hands clenched. She slumped over sideways, her body lying broken on the floor.

-----*-----

Liz stood up shakily, her legs unsure that they could carry her. She slumped against the sink, her hands on the rim, supporting her body.

Slowly, she raised her head, her eyes boring into the mirror. Her eyes were red with crying, her skin blotchy and wet. Her lank hair fell lifelessly over her head.

Suddenly anger was flowing through her veins, consuming her mind and body in its rage. She was crying over HIM. She hadn't shed a tear since the day she had left him, she hadn't wanted to waste another thought on his lying cheating self. She had failed.

She brought up a clenched fist, and brought it down on the surface of the mirror with a deafening crash. Shards of glass fell into the sink, showered onto the deep blue carpet.

Liz brought the hand up in front of her face, a long deep gash lay across the outer hand, many tiny ones spidering out from it like a blood red web.

As she clenched the fist tighter, drops of blood fell upon the broken glass in the sink, running down the plughole with the water dripping slowly from the tap.

With the other hand, she picked up a broken shard of the mirror, and brought it to her wrist.

Then she cut into it.

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