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The sound of the water filling the bathtub used to be comforting. The feeling of cleaning himself used to send joy through his body, happy to get all the dirt and sweat off himself, and to step into a clean bed afterwards. It used to make him feel better, cheer him up on bad days and let him forget about the horrors of the world.
Now though, it seemed to make him feel nothing. Nothing but relief that it would finally end. Too long has he lived through this nightmare. The same routine, day and night, waking up to go to work, to return home to nothing and no one. His family's promises to keep in contact, to call, have been disregarded long ago. It wouldn't do him any good to hope for something that wouldn't seem to come.
The man in the mirror looked tired. There were bags underneath his eyes. His eyes looked almost lifeless and stubble littered his face from where he hadn't had the motivation to shave it. He was ugly. But the man looked relieved, almost like a wish he had had for a long time was finally coming true. He hoped the man wouldn’t lose this relief. He would hate to disappoint.
He tore his eyes away. His gaze landed on his phone, the cracked screen staring back at him. If he had anyone to say goodbye to, to apologise to, or to talk to… No, this wasn't like those sad stories. This was his life. Quiet and empty. Not without reasoning had he chosen to do this, and with that thought in mind, he took off his bathrobe and let it fall to the floor.
The water was hot when he stepped inside. It burnt his skin, burnt along the scars his body carried. Reminders of horrible times, of regret and despair. He sat down.
The man in the mirror watched him sit. He watched him lay back and look up at the ceiling, watching him think back to everything that made him decide that this was the right way to fix everything. All the hurt he's suffered through, the mistakes he's made, and the cries he's let out, wishing for everything to change. Stupid wishes he knew wouldn't come true. This wasn't a story. Too often had he read about people feeling the way he does, the only difference would be that they got a happy ending somehow. A knight in shining armour coming to save the damsel in distress. They always got help, got happy despite what they might have done. Their sins were forgiven like it was nothing.
He closed his eyes as he let himself slide under the water.
The man in the mirror watched his head disappear underneath the steaming water, watched his face become indistinctive underneath it all. Watched as he stayed underneath for several minutes, sweet minutes where he tried his best to keep himself down like he had wanted for so long, let himself breathe in the water and let himself become one with it. This didn’t happen. Eventually his head emerged again and he inhaled sharply, coughs following as he spit out the water in his airways. The water that was supposed to stay and help him let go.
He bit his lips in frustration and looked up until his gaze met the man's. The man’s eyes held nothing but bitterness, a look that screamed disappointment. He looked even more of a mess than he did before. There was something like panic in his eyes. Was he doing the right thing? Did he truly want this?
He dove down again, determination set.
His thoughts grew quiet as he focused on staying under, his facial features smoothing out. The feeling of something calling to him…
His body felt strange. He felt as if something was helping him, understood all his pain and his anguish, and tried to help him end it all. He felt understood for the first time in years, and with the haziness of his mind he didn't dare question it. He wouldn’t question anything as good as this, a helping hand where he needed it most, in the time he would never forget. He was thankful, quite sad he couldn’t show this. Somehow he understood he didn’t need to. Whatever it was that was helping him, they understood.
The water that had once been used to cleanse his outsides was now used to cleanse his insides, rid him of the dirt and grime inside his body, tainting his soul. It cleansed him thoroughly, relief flooding through him as he felt himself finally being rid of everything harmful inside. All of his odds and his unpleasantries.
He was sure the man in the mirror was still watching. He was sure the man was proud of him, at least, all the disappointment washed away from his features. Maybe the features that had hardened over the years had softened once more with the happiness the man must feel. This was what he wanted. What they both wanted. They would finally be rid of all the flaws and imperfections. He felt as if he was given purpose.
The voice sounded close. It was whispering a language he couldn't understand. Or maybe he could. Maybe he was just too far gone to understand it. Nonetheless, it sounded calming, like a reassurance that it would finally be okay. It sounded like a plea to rest, to let go of his body and let himself float.
It sounded like a plea to sleep.