Graveyard Shift

by M.L. Rio

She leaned back from her own reflection, which felt too close, too sudden. This morning’s bedhead and last night’s hat hair fighting for dominance. Her face always looked thin, drawn, sharp—her pointed nose and chin almost ratlike in their way, or so her sister always told her. Ratface. Olive Oyl. Regan MacNeil. Her siblings picked the sweetest nicknames. But today her cheeks seemed softer. So did her mouth, her eyes, the slant of her brows. Everything a little bit … blurry. Hannah turned the taps on and cupped cool water into her face, hoping it would wake her up. She liked Tamar, but she hated liking people, so she wanted to be gone. She shut the faucet off and lifted her head to look for a towel. But there was her reflection again, more clearly. Maybe. She leaned closer, close enough that her breath smudged the glass. She froze there over the basin, water dripping from her chin. She tried to blink the blur away. Nothing happened. She raised one fingertip to the bridge of her nose and felt it—pale and scaly, but soft as warm candle wax. Sleep in her eyes.

Okay so I think she slipped into a fugue state induced by the "medicine" and what we don't see is the rage-fueled incident that occurs next, probably involving Tamara. A frustrating and suspenseful way to end things!!!!!