I don't recognize the person looking back at me, have we met? Should I know her? Her eyes are glossed over and heavy with exhaustion. Her face is etched with dark circles. Her nose is pink like she's been crying, she sniffles every few seconds. Blood is trailing down her arm, spewing out at an alarmingly rapid rate. She has a hand full of pills and smiles every time she glances at them. She looks at them as a child admires a hand full of candy. What happened to make her feel so hopeless? She looks at me expectantly, as if I have something I want. I look closer and realize we have the same freckle on our nose, the same scar on our cheek, she even has the same jawline as me. I try to ask what's wrong, but when I open my mouth she mocks my movement. I realize the person looking back at is my own empty-hearted reflection. I now know exactly what she wants me to do.