And then the day came when the wine would no longer suffice. She removed the gun from … his temple. He had been bad, really bad today. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. He was ruining her life. He was getting out the very worse in her. She felt that in his presence any humanity that might have still existed in her was erased sucked out. He reminded her of the Dementors from Harry Potter. She had loved the series. She had read them all. She knew all the characters, all the plots, and she was certain that this man was her personal Dementor sent on earth to torture her; however, since, he was in jail, and she was the guard, she was torturing him. On a daily basis, and all that mutual torturing made her drink more wine -and every- and anything else past a certain percentage of alcohol- than she had ever known was possible. Every evening, she was a witness to her humanity, systematically drowned in alcohol.
She left ‘work’ early today. She left him crying, in his cell. She went to her usual bar, and sat on the same high chair she always sat on. She ordered her first drink of the evening and was that close to crying when for a reason she could not comprehend, she lifted her head and looked straight in the mirror behind the counter. In it, she saw her reflection. She looked dreadful. She had been avoiding looking at herself for the last seven months. Ever since that horrible day when her supervisor had put the rascal under her sole care. There was no doubt in her mind he did it as a means to take revenge on her because she had refused his advances. Two months after that hell had started, she had then gone to bed with him albeit reluctantly, and begged him to transfer her. He had abused her for four hours, but refused to hear her pleas and transfer her. How could she look at herself now? Her eyes were tired, with heavy and deep brownish blue lines beneath them, her complexion was grey. Her mouth that had once been a constant smile was now drooping; her nose had not changed but suddenly looked longer and meaner. Her hair that had once been shiny and supple, naturally curled, was now desperately straight and heading for the floor, like the rest of her. She felt so low. She gulped down her first drink and saw the first tear in seven months pearling at the corner of her eye, and with it, all the shame and humiliation she had kept hidden inside her, starting to emerge. Tears were now pouring freely from both eyes, when she noticed a man watching her. He had such a kind face. She momentarily lost herself in his eyes through the mirror. She was afraid to turn around for fear he would disappear. So she did not move and sat there watching him watch her in the mirror while tears were cascading down her face. While looking at him, she felt something she thought she had lost move inside her. As if her soul had been awakened. She knew nothing of that man but she knew there would be many more meetings. She knew nothing about that man but she knew his kindness had transcended her and had managed to free her humanity. She wanted to stay there forever, and at the same time she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to ask him all those questions young lovers ask each other. She wanted to know what he liked to eat, whether he preferred the beach or the mountain, what books he liked to read, if he liked going to the movies. All those things that make someone human. Not the person she had become in the last seven months. That monster who had tied another human being upside down from his ankles for seven hours straight, who had helped electrocute him while others were beating him, who had forced him to walk naked on all four while she and her friends took turns posing next to him. She, who had become a person she could no longer look at in the mirror, she, who had to drink herself to oblivion from morning to evening, who had not slept with her supervisor just the once but every single time he had ordered her to after the first incident. She wanted out of all that. And she knew that with the help and the love of the man in the mirror, she would manage, and it would all be fine.
(July 31st, 2013)