Window to my soul.

She's moving again. Her black hair falling out of her bun in tight curls, sticking to her sweaty face. Her brows crunched in concentration as she walks down the stairs, large box in hand, craning her neck to see around it.

She's moving again, running away from her problems once more. I feel her fear. Feel the pain in her muscles as she struggles to move fast. Praying to get out before anyone notices. I watch as she crams the final box into the back of her red Mazda. She looks around and racing back up the stairs one final time. Taking one last look around her old crappy apartment, she leans down and grabs a carrier, she speaking softly to the creature inside. "It's okay love. It's time to go." Her cat meows back in frustration at being locked up. "I know, but we have to leave now." Closing the door behind her she locks it and speeds back to her car. Throwing herself and the carrier inside. Opening the small wire door, she soothes, "There now, you can come out now." The cat just looks at her as she starts the car, and pulls out onto the road.

Driving with no real destination in mind was always soothing to her. "Okay, Luna. One for east, two for west." Luna was quiet for a moment then chirped two short meows. Relaxing into the seat, she nodded, "West it is then."

My heartbeat slows alongside hers as she pulls onto the freeway, the town quickly falling far into the distance. I frowned. She just came from the West. She hated it there. I hated it there. The humidity in the summer, the blizzards in the winter. It was too inconsistent for her liking. But I didn't open my mouth to speak.

I had long given up trying to tell her what to do. Not because I didn't care, but because she'd never hear me. I used to try. I would scream until my voice gave out, but she never knew. I was stuck. watching as she lived her life, with no way of giving he help or advice.

I was stuck here. beind this mirror that followed her every movement. And she had no idea. No idea that I saw whatever she saw. Felt whatever she felt. Loved and hated whatever she loved and hated. I was her after all. I was her, but not her. I was just a witness to her life, living it alongside her, stuck in the shadows with no say in what happened to our bodies. I looked around me. My "home" (if you could even call it that) consisted of a bed, and a chair, surrounded by neverending black. The Void, is what I called it. I tried once to walk out there, but I didn't last long before the pure emptiness of it all overwhelmed me so completely I had to turn back. And when I finally made it, I found it had been days that passed for her, when I had been sure I was only gone an hour. And something had happened to her. She wasn't whole. It was almost as if when I had left her, I took her soul with me.

So I stayed, and watched, and waited. Giving into what I was sure was my damnation. Stuck.

Alone.

Forever forced to watch as she destroyed herself. Taking me down with her in the process.

I had no way of controlling her. Witnessing as she made one self-destructive decision after another, pulling us farther into the pit of nothingness that threatened to consume us. Some days it was too much. And on those days I would lay in bed, refusing to watch as she ruined herself...me...us.

I leaned against the hard wood backing of my chair, feeling nothing but the worn leather of her seat as she drove, fast, and with no real direction in mind.

I felt the coolness against my cheeks before the sadness even registered. She was crying softly. sniffling against the tears. I turned away. I hated seeing her like this. Not being able to offer anything but silent, unrecognized love and support. Knowing it made no real difference, I stood. Laying my hand against the cool glass of the one-way window, I spoke "I'm here. You are not alone. You are loved." My whispers barely sounding, my breath fogging up the scene. She wiped her tears, not reacting to my words, and cleared her throat. She reached out a hand and turned on the music, landing on a soft indie station. Jerking her head in ine sharp nod of resolve she took a breath, "I'm fine." She spoke to her cat. "We will be fine."

Cranking up the volume she began to sing quietly along with the music.

I turned from the image. Crawling into my bed, listening to her broken, lilting voice. Wiping the tears from my face, I couldn't help but wish that one day, I might reach through that window, and do the same for her.