Excerpt: Mirror Shards

“Not any more. Not after years of dealing with...well...”

He nodded knowingly. “Then I'll be sure to have that noted in your preferences. Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am?”

She paused for a moment, thinking now that her head had cleared. “No, I really don't think so. Thank you very much, young man.”

“Not a problem, ma'am, you have yourself a good day.”

Time passed, and she decided a little later to call down for some popcorn and an old mystery movie. It was black and white, filmed in a time when there was true beauty in the world and not some photoshopped imitation thereof. She watched the images play across the screen, the edges no longer fuzzy but refined to razor edges and crystal clarity. The dialogue did not have any of the muffling of age, but sounded as if it had been spoken only minutes ago instead of many decades. The main actress reminded her so much of her own youthful self...her own promising career that had been cut short by a twisted, burning motherhood from which she still bore scars. But none of that carried into the film, and she let herself be swept away in her own mind by the leading actor, so far away from the man she married but still undeniably attractive on the aged celluloid. Nothing could take their youth from them. Nothing could force age, pain, misery on them. They were ultimately untouchable, and in that moment she began to envy them. She only got halfway through the movie before she turned it off, finishing the popcorn in mute silence.

Dinner time came, and despite the popcorn, she found herself very hungry. She tried to think of what she wanted to eat...and then a thought struck violently, and she found herself ready. Ready for food, ready to go, ready to face what might come next. Calmly, she dialed the number for the front desk.

A friendly, yet tired sounding voice answered after a single ring. “Good evening, and thank you for calling the Front Desk. My name is Brianna, how may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Alanna Carlisle in Room 212. I would like to place a dinner order from the kitchens.”

“Of course, Ms. Carlisle, what can we get for you this evening?”

She only barely paused to think everything over. “Turkey with country gravy, some mashed potatoes, broccoli, and a buttermilk biscuit on the side. I'd also like some wine to drink with that.”

“Red or white, Ms. Carlisle?”

“Red, please, if it's not too much trouble.”

“All righty, Ms. Carlisle, would you like any dessert to go with that?”

“Why, yes, a small slice of chocolate cake would be just the perfect finish. Could I also get some medicine delivered with that?”

She heard rustling on the other end of the line, like papers getting pushed around and reorganized. “All right, Ms. Carlisle, what do you need?”

“Morphine and codeine.”

“Would you prefer liquid or pill form?”

“Liquid.”

“Intravenous or ingested?”

“Ingested.” She was starting to feel the fear now. But it was fear equally mixed with a steadily growing excitement. There was no turning back, now.

“Ms. Carlisle, may I also suggest a hemlock garnish on the chocolate cake? Many of our guests have found great success with that method, and I think it will pair nicely with the morphine and codeine.”

She nodded. “I'll take it. Will it be added as extra to the final expenses?”

“Of course not, Ms. Carlisle. It's a courtesy we offer all of our guests.”

“Good. That'll be very good. And I think I might like a different movie brought up to my room.”