Mildred

SLEEPTALK

I stared at my reflection in the mirror by the vanity countertop in the bathroom.

I was void of any feeling. There was no disgust, nor regret. All I knew was that my black tresses had gone down and were now dyed out to this offensive brown bobbed hair which made me a little bit skinnier than I actually was.

I looked at my eyes. My hazel eyes were perfect, these honey-brown eyes made it disturbing for me to look at.

My stomach built, and I felt the need to throw up. The disgust in the pit of my stomach rose back to my gut threatening to spill....