"That night I saw my demon's face. He stared at me with indifferent eyes - he was neither analytical nor threatening. It was hard to define what his eyes tried to explain to me as my focus jumped between trying to make a firm image of his ghostly and blurry facial contours, and avoiding a stare for too long.
This much I knew: Even though I could not fully make sense of his façade, I knew it was me, (or rather, the true essence of my shame escaping all reason, playing a dark and treacherous joke to the strange calmness I felt after leaving the scene of the crime).
Fear of what I saw that night kept me awake, and ever since I have been dreamless. Ever since that time, I have become conscious of the eyes that stare at me in the mirror. The same eyes that sit next to my bed invading the surreal world of subconscious thoughts."
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