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Feeling the hot damp of steam filling the shower cabin always made me relax... Made me calm down whenever I was upset about something... Made me think about the things that were on my mind... Sitting on the bottom of the shower cabin as the hot water was running over me... But I'm not in my bathroom... It's Nikki's bathroom... I couldn't help but to feel a little creeped out as I was taking my shower... There was something eerie about it, as if I was being watched by someone... The shadows that were cast by the halogen bulbs on the ceiling seemed to have a life of their own... Like they were closing in on me... I watched how they got closer and closer until the entire bathroom seemed to get pitch black... Everything the shadows touched became a pitch black empty space... It's the kind of fear that I haven't felt in years... A hoarse whisper was heard, which seemed to get louder by the second, accompanied by more whispers... Hundreds of voices whispering, while I wasn't able to make any sense of what they were saying... My heart was pounding in my chest as I quickly turned the water off and jumped out of the shower cabin... And then everything was back to normal... It took several moments before I was able to catch my breath again and thought that it was nothing... So I took a towel from the rack and dried myself off... The mirror above the sink was steamy because of the hot damp and I wasn't able to see myself. So I used the towel to wipe it and I had a clear view on my naked body... I looked at myself for a while and continued to dry myself off, not paying attention to my own reflection ... But once I was done, I kept staring at myself in the mirror... The most peculiar thing was that my own reflection didn't mimic my movements when I placed the towel back on the rack... 'Funny... It's like... looking in a mirror, only not...'

A voice so familiar and yet... I wasn't too sure if I heard it right... It was my own voice I heard... The moment I looked up, I saw my reflection in the mirror but it wasn't mimicking any of my movements... It just stood still and stared at me... 'Don't look so surprised... Don't act as if you never saw me before... Don't even pretend that you don't know me...' 'Just... What's happening...?' 'I think we both know but you refuse to accept it... A choice deliberately made, perhaps?' 'No... It's not... I-I don't know what you're talking about...!' 'Yes, it is. It's gnawing on you, it always has been and it always will be...' 'It's not my fault... I-It never was...! I never was able to do anything about it...!' 'So you do know what I'm talking about.' 'I, uh...' 'Mother would be rolling over in her grave, provided she had one, if she saw what you did. Or rather yet, what you didn't do...' 'It's not my fault...!' 'Kalim ju afaz jor e bachtard do e janandira. Sayleh su e janandira.' 'D-Demon...? N-No... That's not true! You're lying!' 'Tell that to her...'

The moment I looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection holding the severed head of the girl I saw decapitated a long time ago... It was horrifying to see... Blood was still dripping down her neck, as if it just happened moments ago... Right that very second, I looked at the mirror and saw that my reflection was holding a bloodstained machete, while still holding the severed head of that young girl... At that very moment, when I saw that she was holding that bloodstained machete, I totally lost it... I yelled in anger, swore and cursed at my reflection... Wishing that she was dead... Calling her names while I punched the mirror several times with all my strength... With each punch I threw, I saw the cracks in the mirror and my reflection, who just stood there looking at me, as if she enjoyed what she was seeing... But at some point, she looked down, like she just didn't care what would happen to her... Cuts were slowing forming on her face caused by the shattered glass... Just as I was about to punch it again, the reflection in the mirror looked up once more... And I saw it was my mother instead... All that anger, all that sorrow... It was gone, just like that the moment I saw her... My mother had these lovely brown eyes and black stripes on her muzzle... But other than that, I look a lot like her... And even though her face had deep cuts as well, my mother looked at me as if she didn't feel any pain... Instead, she smiled at me and placed her hand against the glass... The tears were rolling down my face when I saw her... My mother was so close yet so far away... I reached my hand out to her as well... But the moment my hand touched the mirror, it shattered into thousands of tiny fragments and I was no longer seeing her... My whole body was shaking tremendously and I looked down on my own hands, torn apart from all the punches I gave as blood from my knuckles was dripping down on the tiles... I kept staring at my hands and felt this intense fear and panic... It made me realize that nothing good would ever come out from them... It made me burst out into tears... Crying hysterically, I sat down in the corner of the bathroom on the cold, stone tiles as my hands were clenching on my hair... It didn't take long before I felt a hand on my shoulder and as I looked up, there she was again, standing right in front of me... It was my reflection, still holding on to that bloodstained machete... And I felt absolutely terrified the moment I saw her again... I thought she finally came for me... Her entire body was covered in bloody cuts with small pieces of glass in them... She only looked at me for a moment when I stood up and curled myself up in the corner out of fear when I saw her again, thinking that she would kill me... But she didn't... All she did was looking at me while not saying anything to me... She simply opened the door of the bathroom and nodded that I had to go through... So I slowly made my way and while I was leaning against the doorpost, I saw the all familiar muddy pathways... All the tents that were set on fire... People who lost their lives for a cause that was worth neither fighting or defending... All of a sudden, I got pushed outside and fell face first down in the mud... And when I looked back, I saw her closing the door... I got up and ran to her as fast as I could but just before I could reach her, the door was closed and it just vanished into thin air... I yelled, I cried and I begged her not to leave me in this place, not where it all happened... But there was no answer... I was all alone there once more...

The mud was sticking underneath my paws as I slowly made my way around, not knowing where to go... The fires that were scattered throughout the camp and the full moon gave enough illumination to make my way through... No one made a sound... No one moved... I was the only one making sound... It felt as if everyone was staring at me... Blaming me for still being alive... To have survived the genocide... I felt a cold shiver down my spine the moment I stopped when I saw countless of bodies right in front of me, looking very familiar... He had stab wounds all over his body, his clothes were ripped and stained with blood... And then I looked at his face... He had his throat slit, like most people there... And then I saw it was Terry who was down there on the ground... The moment I realized, I screamed and yelled while I shook him to wake up while crying hysterically again... I yelled for help as I panicked... But no one answered... All of them looked familiar... All of them were stabbed and all of them had their throats slit... All of them had their clothes ripped and had bloodstains on them... Samantha, Blain... Simon, Catherine, grandma... All of my cousins, aunts and uncles... Nikki, Sarah, Mikaela... Everyone I ever knew and everyone I ever loved... Even little Ashley... I cried and cried so hysterically that I started to hyperventilate... An extreme sense of fear and panic got the better of me... I just fell down on my knees, feeling so lost and so alone... Until all of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder once more... And that's when I turned around and saw her again, looking down on me... 'Sayleh su e janandira.' 'Why?! Why the hell did you do this?! You took away EVERYTHING from me!! I'm not the demon, you are!!' 'Liar...' 'No, FUCK you!! FUCK YOU!! You're the one who's lying!! You did this to them!!'

She didn't say anything after that... She just kept staring at my hand with that emotionless expression... I didn't know why... But when I looked down, I saw I was the one holding that bloodstained machete... I got so scared that I dropped it... 'O-Oh God, no...! N-No, no!! I didn't do this!' 'It's not your fault... You just did what you had to do...' 'W-What...?! Why?! Tell me why!!' 'Because you wouldn't have believed me if I didn't show you ...' 'What do you mean by that...?! Show me what...?!' 'Your undying ability to kill the ones you love...'

I looked down on that bloodstained machete and realized that it's always been me... No one else is to blame but me... And she was right, I just did what I had to do... There was just one thing left to do, something that I never was capable of... But it had to be done... So she kneeled down in front of me and picked up that bloodstained machete instead... 'It's time...' 'I-I know...' 'Ssssh... It's okay... Don't cry... Don't be scared...'

I thought it would give me peace... To finally be able to accept things the way they are... To be liberated... It made me believe that everything would be alright... She stood behind me and gently nudged my chin up while I was still kneeled down, looking at her... Even though she told me not to cry, the tears were rolling over my cheek... And she saw that... She gave me a kiss on my forehead and caressed my cheek the moment she placed the sharp blade against my throat... For a second there, it looked as if she hesitated... But then I felt the pressure of the blade... Feeling how my blood was dripping down my throat as she quickly sliced it... It hurt so much and yet I wasn't able to yell in pain... My screams of pain turned into gurgling... It feels like you're drowning... You want to scream and yell for help but you simply just can't... She gently let me down on the ground and kept caressing my head as everything was slowing fading away, while hearing her quiet whispers that everything would be alright...

I bolted upright in bed and gasped for air... I felt so hot, clammy and nauseous the moment I woke up, with my heart pounding in my chest... I got to the bathroom as fast as I could because I felt I had to throw up any second... Hurling above the toilette only seemed to make me feel worse... But at least that nauseous feeling was going away...

It was a fucked up dream, I know... But I've had these kind of dreams for as long as I can remember... Sometimes I've had them for days on end... Sometimes sporadically... Sometimes I had weeks where I was able to sleep peacefully throughout the night... But it always came back... Those dreams only seemed to intensify whenever I was angry, sad or depressed about something but I didn't know why... But I do know that it's all symbolic and that it tries to bring a message across... A message I'm all too well familiar with... It just has a fucked up way of showing it... About my fear of losing the ones I love, for feeling guilty... But also about the war and the genocide... The things that actually did take place... Sometimes, those things were combined, like that dream where I "killed" the ones I love... It was so fucking twisted but it came with a meaning, like all dreams have... It means that I have the tendency to hurt the ones I love, causing them to disappear out of my life while knowing that it's all my fault... And even though it was just a dream, it felt all too real to me...

It took a while before I finally calmed down after sitting on the toilette seat, clenching my hair and crying my eyes out... It didn't mattered how many times I've had these kind of dreams... I never got used to it... I quickly splashed my face with water in the bathroom but for obvious reasons, I got out as fast as I could... And I knew this was going to be one of those long nights again, the ones that never seem to end...

I needed answers to the questions no one was able to answer for me... Part of me wanted to know what really happened there and more importantly, why it happened... But the reason I never looked into it before was because I was afraid I might remember something I'd rather not want to know... Whenever I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep anymore, I was reading my diary and stared at the locket of my parents in an attempt to get some answers... Something just told me that my diary and my locket contained the answers I needed... But no matter how many times I stared at it, the answers never came... So that night was no exception, when I sat there on the couch with my diary and locket... Sitting there in my underwear on the couch was chilly but I didn't want to go to bed anymore, afraid that it might come back... So I'd rather sit there on the couch feeling cold than to fall asleep again... I opened the locket and saw my mother's picture... It's old and the photo faded over the years but her face was still visible...

My father's picture was clipped on the other side, still in fairly good shape... The strange thing is that I never have dreams about my father or my little brother Sanjay... It's always about my mother... I don't know what it is... Maybe it's because I didn't see their bodies... They simply just disappeared one day, when they were going to a Red Cross distribution point to get supplies in Jakurash, about twenty kilometres from Pandura, the village where I grew up... My mother and I always hoped that the four of us got reunited in the refugee camp... But several days before the genocide started, we received word that some distribution points were overrun by rebel militias, including the one in Jakurash... All the hope my mother and I had for them to return safely to us was shattered to pieces... I was too young to understand what was happening... But at night, while I was on my stretcher in our tent, I often heard my mother cry... It was heart wrenching to hear... And even though we never knew for sure, it was very unlikely for them to have survived it...

When the rebel militias came for us on the fourteenth of may in 1994, my whole life was gone, just like that... Everything and everyone I ever knew weren't there anymore... But I survived it... It didn't felt like that when I found my mother's body... And maybe that's the reason why I keep having these dreams... To constantly relive that one moment, as if it only happened minutes ago, even though it's been thirteen years since... And every time I think of everything that happened there, I get reminded what it's like to live with guilt... To have survived the genocide... That night was no exception... Even though I can barely remember them, I still love them deeply... So I showed that by doing the only thing I can do... Caressing their pictures with my thumbs while whispering quietly to them... It's a silly thing to think that they'll be able to hear me but it always made me feel better... It's something I always did, ever since I was little... Even now, it made me feel better... I guess these kind of things will always stick with you... So I sat there for a long time, whispering quietly to them about everything that was going on and how I felt when all of a sudden, I got snapped out of it... 'Who the hell are you talking to?'

I got so startled that I dropped the locket and my diary on the carpet... The moment I turned around, I saw Meagan standing at the door, placing her purse on the dining table... Meagan isn't exactly a prude with the way she dresses but that night, she was dressed like an ordinary whore... It surprised me that she didn't bring five guys home... Anyway, I got so carried away that I didn't even hear her coming inside... Meagan was wearing a very short mini skirt and a rather tight spaghetti top which showed a lot of cleavage... Open high heeled shoes... I honestly don't understand why some girls dress up like that... 'Do you always talk to yourself like that? What the hell was that about anyway? It sounded like some freaky voodoo shit.'

I didn't respond to that... It was obvious that she was just looking for an excuse to start an argument again... But I wasn't exactly in the mood for that... I was wiping the tears out of my eyes the moment I picked up my locket from the ground... 'I wasn't talking to myself...' 'It sure sounded like that, no one else was there.' 'Just leave me alone...' 'Whatever, you crazy bitch...'

Even when she called me a crazy bitch, I wasn't responding to her... On other nights, I might've called her names but that's all we ever did... And I was so sick of that... Sick of all the conflicts, so sick of all the fights I had with people while I didn't even know why... I couldn't remember why Meagan and I loathed each other... But still... Was I really crazy for talking to my parents...? Talk to them because I miss them...? I suppose I was... People call you crazy because you're doing something they don't understand... But I got used to that... Meagan stood there for a moment waiting for me to reply but I continued to ignore her by looking at my locket... It all floated up again... I closed my eyes when I felt the tears rolling over my cheek again, trying my best to hold them back... Crying in front of Meagan and I would be hearing about it for the rest of the month... I know how she's like... And then all of a sudden, she said something that really, really made my heart pound in my chest... I forgot my diary was still on the ground when I looked at my locket... 'What's all this about? I can't make any sense of it.'

The moment I heard the sound of pages being flipped, I opened my eyes and looked to my left... She was holding my diary and she was looking into it... And even though she wasn't able to read anything I wrote, she still saw all the little drawings I made in there when I was little... 'N-No...! Don't...! Please, give it back...!' 'Is this a diary of some kind?' 'Give it back to me...!' 'So it is, huh? You got anything interesting?' 'No, please don't...' 'C'mon, whadda ya got to hide? Got some juicy stories in there?'

No one knew the existence of my diary because it's always been very personal and I wasn't exactly keen on sharing it with people... I never let people take a peek... It contains my entire life story, including everything I experienced during the war... As she was flipping the pages, I saw how that smirk of her was wiped off her face... She wouldn't be able to read it... But the drawings said enough... It seemed those little drawings must've disturbed her with the way she was looking at me... And all I could do was to stare right back at her... It didn't take long before the tears were rolling down my cheeks again, begging her to give my diary back... The moment she closed the book and handed it over to me, I snatched it from her hands... 'Go ahead, laugh all you want about it... I don't give a fuck anymore...' 'I-I'm sorry, I didn't know...' 'Just go... Leave me alone...'

She looked at me for a short moment and then went to her bed room... And once the door was closed, I sat back on the couch again and just let it all out... That night it felt as if I truly hit rock bottom, you know... I just felt so fucked up and so sad while I didn't know why... Meagan couldn't have picked a worse moment to make fun of me... I normally wouldn't give a shit whenever she did, because I always managed to say something to make her shut up... But that night, I just... I don't know, I just clammed up from all the things that I was feeling... And when I saw that she was holding my diary, I just lost it... The drawings she saw, were fairly harmless... But there are several drawings that I made when I was little that look pretty disturbing, even today... People who were shot or were set on fire... A drawing of someone beheaded... It's fucked up... Everything is fucked up... My whole life was fucked up and while I was sitting there, I kept wondering why the hell I kept going through the same thing over and over again... And so everything just floated up... Crying would only help for a short time but at least it helped... So I just sat there on the couch crying my eyes out...

My eyes felt sore from all the crying I did... But at least it made me feel better... I managed to pull myself together after a while and took several deep breaths... I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind... A while later, I heard a door opening and when I looked up, I saw Meagan standing at the doorpost, looking at me... 'You alright...?' 'I'll be fine...' 'I heard you crying...' 'Heh...'

She hesitated for a moment but walked towards me and sat down on the lounge chair across me... I just pretended that she wasn't there... I didn't know why the hell she even bothered to sit with me... 'I'm sorry...' 'Don't be, I'm sure you'll get several laughs from it tomorrow...' 'I didn't know, okay? I'm sorry...' 'Heh... Yeah, well...' 'Look, I know you and I don't get along with each other and we don't have to be friends but...' 'But what...?' 'At least we can stop having these fights...' 'Yeah... I guess we both got a rather short fuse...' 'Heh...' 'Why this sudden change...? It made you think, didn't it...? After you saw my diary...?' 'Oh, well...' 'I don't need your pity, Meagan... You didn't had any before and now that you know, you all of a sudden do...? Trust me, I'll be better off without it...' 'Heh...' 'You think I'm a crazy bitch for talking to my parents who lost their lives during the war when I was eight years old...? You think it's crazy because it's something you don't understand... You don't know what it's like to lose your parents...'

I looked at Meagan and there was this uncomfortable silence surrounding the room... Meagan looked down and nervously twiddled her fingers... 'Well, actually, I do know...' 'Oh...' 'My mother died in a car crash when I was twelve years old so... Heh... And my dad... Well, he was a goddamn alcoholic and a gambler... About a year ago, he decided it was best for him to jump off the Pryhaven Bridge...' 'I'm sorry to hear that...' 'Yeah, well... I'm just like you, I suppose. I don't want your pity.'

I looked at her and nodded quietly... I know what it's like when people show sympathy... It'll only emphasize the nature of your grief and I guess Meagan felt the same about it... She looked back at me and had a weak smile on her face... So I smiled weakly back at her... 'Did Nikki made you sleep on the couch tonight...?' 'Hehe, no... No, I just... I just had a really fucked up dream... I can't sleep anymore...' 'I see... Bad dreams, huh?' 'Yeah, pretty much...' 'You look like you could use a drink. Hell, I sure could use one.' 'I suppose...' 'Jack Daniels on the rocks?' 'Sure, hit me...'

Meagan stood up and got a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard in the kitchen and two whiskey glasses. After she poured the drinks, she opened the freezer to get the ice cube holder and dropped two ice cubes in each glass. After which, she returned and placed a glass in front of me. 'Thanks...' 'Alcohol solves all problems, except in my dad's case. Here's to you, you son of a bitch...'

She took a swig from her glass and the whiskey just disappeared... How the hell can anyone drink something like that with just one swig...? Meagan pulled a funny face afterwards and sighed quietly when she placed her glass back on the table... 'Meagan...?' 'Yes?' 'You grew up with Nikki, right...?' 'Pretty much, yeah. We grew up in the same neighbourhood. Why do you ask?' 'You've known her for almost your entire life. I mean... What's the cause of her insecurities...? Why does she always have such a lack of self-esteem...?' 'The cause of her insecurities?' 'Yeah...?' 'It's always been other people.' 'Other people?' 'Hm-mm...' 'Why...? I mean... A girl like her...' 'Freyton is a terrible place for a kid to grow up. Nikki and I lived in the same neighbourhood, which was pretty much a goddamn ghetto. Gang members were dealing drugs and all that shit... I still had a relatively good youth... Sure, my dad was an alcoholic but... Nikki... It's a whole different story with her...' 'Why, what happened...?' 'I don't know, that's the thing. She never talked about her home situation, even today. I've been at her place several times and well... Her parents were fucked up... They neglected her...' 'Oh...' 'It's just a hunch but... I get the feeling that she wasn't wanted... The things her parents said about her... Whenever I was at her place, her parents always told me that she was good for nothing and asked me why I was friends with her... I suppose she heard that every day and well... If you hear that you're a piece of shit every day, you'll start to believe that you are...' 'Heh...' 'But despite all the shit that she's been through, she was always there for me whenever I needed her. She pulled me out of that shithole and we both moved to Ravello, where we started all over...' 'I see...' 'I don't always show it but Nikki means a lot to me for all the things she ever did. She knows I got trouble making ends meet but whatever I can scrape together goes to her... I work my ass off just so that we can keep this apartment...' 'Where do you work?' 'Hm? What?' 'I said where do you work?' 'Oh, uhm, I, uh... I-I work at Topanga's... Y-You know that club over on Grand Vista...?' 'I've heard of it, my ex used to go there all the time... Downtown Ravello, right?' 'Yeah... That's the one...' 'I've never been there, though. Clubs aren't exactly my thing.' 'Yeah, I figured as much... Nikki told me, it's not her thing either.' 'Hehe...' 'So yeah... Uhm... I work late night shifts behind the bar and well... they have a certain "dress code" when you work there...' 'Ah, I see... Is that why you always come home late?' 'Yeah... It is...'

I took a sip from my whiskey but damn, that shit was strong... But then again, I wasn't used to alcohol, since I rarely drink. Once I finished my drink, she poured us another one. 'What about you?' 'What do you mean?' 'Is there a special someone in your life, Meagan?' 'There was one, yes but... It's a long story... Heh... In my current state, it's best for me to be single...' 'Why?' 'I got a lot of things to deal with... I work six days a week so I hardly have time for someone else...' 'Six days a week...?' 'Yeah...' 'Not going to college...?' 'I had to drop out, simply because I couldn't afford it anymore.' 'Afford it...? You mean you had to pay it yourself?' 'College isn't exactly cheap... Not everyone is lucky to have their education paid... I had to take loans but loans also need to be paid back with interest... So I had to drop out and I started to work instead...' 'Financial problems...' 'Pretty much...'

She wasn't looking at me but still had a weak, nervous little smile on her face... Something just told me that she wasn't exactly comfortable talking about her job... But that also explained why she was dressed like that. Even though it totally goes against my morals to dress myself up like a skank, I didn't mind taking a peek at girls who actually do dress like that... Meagan is awfully hot, especially whenever she was dressed like that. It just goes to show that people just see what they want to see. A sexy girl, dressed like a whore so that must mean that she is one and nothing more to it... Shallow, if you will... But that night, I managed to saw through that when I sat there on the couch with Meagan... Meagan turned out to be so much more than that...

Meagan and I kept talking and drinking whiskey together throughout the night. And it was very nice to have her as a distraction and to have her keep me company when I wasn't able to sleep anymore. It distracted me from so many other things that was on my mind. Four months ago, I never imagined I would ever have a pleasant conversation with her. Even though Meagan and I didn't had a single thing in common, somewhere, somehow, we still did... It broke the ice and it felt so great that for once, things were brightening up... It was good that we talked... It explained why she was always gone... Knowing that she had financial problems explained a lot of things about her... It's funny how one single conversation can change everything... But several whiskey's did the trick... It made us fall asleep in the livingroom... I never imagined back then that Meagan would become one of the closest friends I have... And up to this day, she still is... All it took were several shots of whiskey and a terrible hangover the next day...