Through The Mirror

When Jeremy's eyes opened, everything looked so similar and for a few minutes he was fooled. His room looked just as perfect as he had left it that morning. The drapes were closed, only a few rays of light shining through to illuminate the room, the bed still made like no one had ever slept in it, and the sweet hint of rose—

No. . . Not roses. It smelled sterile. Like someone had come and disinfected the whole place while he was gone.

Something felt wrong.

His cerulean optics searched the room for any imperfections as he hastily moved towards the door, only stopping when something caught his eye in the mirror.

"Katherine." The words left his lips so quietly that when she didn't acknowledge him he just assumed she hadn't heard him.

Her face was hidden in her hands and her shoulders moved up and down as if she were crying. "Kat, what's—" As he turned around to move to her side he was only found with an empty bed.

This sickly feeling had taken over him and like a ton of bricks, the memories flushed into Jeremy's mind; the noise of the two cars crashing, the ringing in his ears, the faint yells in the distance. And then...

Darkness.

He didn't know what it felt to lose someone so suddenly. One minute you have them and the next you don't. He had gone his whole life without having to suffer through that pain. Heck, his parents were still around. Sure they were old, but they were around. So to see that look of pain on his wife's face every time she walked into their room it was heart breaking.

For a few weeks this had gone on. Everyday she would walk into the room and everyday it seemed like she was losing another piece of herself. Jeremy felt like he had tried everything; yelling, pounding on the glass, leaving the room itself. He felt like he had been cursed to eternal damnation.

It was as if she had lost the will to live, love, and laugh. This was truly his worst nightmare.
To watch the one  he loved the most die right before his eyes.

One morning she just walked into the room, his gun held tightly in one had, and a necklace he had gifted her in the other.

Jeremy bolted to the mirror, hands pressing up against the glass as if he would go through if he pressed hard enough.

"Stop."
"Please. . ."
"Stop it."
"Katherine don't."
"STOP." For a brief moment he could have sworn she had heard him as her gaze had locked with his and lingered there, tears welling up in her eyes.

After hearing the distinct noise of the gun going off he was consumed by darkness. All he could hear was a beeping noise that seemed to never stop, and the voice off a man saying—

"Poor man... His wife ended her life without ever knowing that we found a donor for him."