You can't get rid of me, Emma Jean. I'm a part of you. The voice reminds me, sounding angry. "No!" I yell, sending my fist through the mirror. He's right, but I don't want him to be right. I want him to be ALIVE. "You WERE a part of me. You're not shit now. You left me. You’re dead! You promised you’d never leave me, and now you’re fucking dead! I fucking hate you for dying. For leaving me alone. Do you hear me? I fucking hate you!" I scream louder, kicking the cabinet until one of the doors gives way and falls to the ground.
