Stains

Title Stains
Rating PG-13

The water was icy cold over her fingers as she scrubbed salt into the marks on her favourite sweater. Why did she even bother wearing nice things any more? They just got ruined every time she stepped out of the door it seemed.

Still, at least it wasn't arterial blood this time. That had been an absolute bitch to get out.

A strand of hair had fallen over her face and Claire reached up to push it back behind her ear in frustration. As she did, she caught a glimpse of herself in the ornate mirror over the sink.

She blinked a little as she realised she barely recognised the face looking back at her.

Had it really only been a couple of months since she had found out she was a freak? Since she'd learned intimately the difference between the bright crimson of blood straight from the heart and the dark purple of spent blood? Since she'd learned that pain could indeed be a great motivator?

Somewhere in the depths of her reflection she thought that just maybe the Claire who didn't know those things would have wanted to know what was happening, would have wanted to know just what was to come. That she would have appreciated the heads up. But no, that Claire would have just laughed and walked away.

"I'm sorry. I wish you could have been normal." She whispered softly and reaching up to touch the mirror, wondering for a second if maybe the words could stretch out and touch the mirror Claire. Maybe she was normal, maybe her reflection had the normal life, maybe she was right at this minute planning the decorations for Homecoming...

Claire laughed bitterly. What was she on? Thinking there could be another version of her living in the mirror. She might be a freak, but that didn't mean she had to be insane as well.

She went back to scrubbing at the bloodstains. Maybe she should just start wearing exclusively red clothes. That might work. At least until the blood dried.

Plus, it was an excuse to hit the mall.