He’d broken through the years of armour she’d built around herself. He continued as her defenses fell away, the barrage cutting flesh before plunging into her heart. It was cruel not because of the words chosen but the truth they spoke.
There weren’t enough bandages to hide the self-inflicted wounds. Her fingers rough across the scars she’d bear for a lifetime.
The inflective and the reflective finding common ground. Pushing through the barriers Sadie had erected to shield herself from the trauma. Compelling the other to parse through every painful moment in search of resolution. Holding on to the others mirror so as not to fall.
Slowly, buried secrets begin to reveal themselves as she assembles the remnants of a fractured existence. Piecing together the broken fragments from her alternate realities, she rebuilds an identity almost lost to a single violent act.
Who she was and who she has become converging to bridge the chasm together.
Through silvered glass, Sadie runs her fingers across her own disfigured face. The tactile sensation of rough-hewn skin momentarily paralyzing her in place.
Hours spent together observing each other. Each movement, every facial expressions examined. Sharing scattered memories through the ebb and flow of tears and laughter. The swift punctuation of anger contrasting the softness of her lips in intimate moments.
A quiet resilience emerges as she begins to accept herself. Her lambent reflection helping to illuminate new passages through her own doubt and despair.
No longer impenetrable, the darkness slowly begins to relent.