Helios Beginnings (The Helios Chronicles #0.5) by Tawa M. Witko Page B

then grabbed the Thrifty bag and headed into the bathroom, which if at all possible was more disgusting than the main room. He tried not to look at the stains around the sink or the ring, of what he presumed was mildew, around the shower-head. He pulled out the scissors and razor from the bag along with the little tube of toothpaste and its accompanying toothbrush. He took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror.
    “You’re fucking pathetic!” his reflection said with loathing.
    Andrew frowned at himself, not recognizing the man looking back at him. The haze, caused by his frequent drug use, dimmed his normal, mesmerizing green eyes. His hand touched his hollowed out cheeks under all the hair on his face. He looked like he should be on some mountain far away from civilization. His eyes shifted to his hair. He hadn’t been able to wash it in a very long time, so it was somewhat knotted. He roughly ran his fingers through it, trying to break up the knots as a few tears slowly rolled down his cheek.
    “Why the fuck am I even alive anymore?” he mumbled to himself.
    “Just do it! No one will miss a loser like you,” his reflection replied, egging him on.
    Andrew’s eyes immediately focused on the razor on the counter, briefly wondering why he shouldn’t end it all right now. He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of that thought. He carefully wiped his tears away and picked up the scissors. He started cutting away at his beard knowing he wouldn’t be able to shave with the amount of growth he had. Once he was done with that he picked up the little bar of motel soap and started lathering his face up, bringing the razor to his jaw. His reflection was eyeing him warily. Andrew took another deep breath and started to shave. When he was done, he brought the scissors to his hair and started to trim the excess length so that it would be more manageable.
    “Go ahead, Andrew. What are you waiting for?” his reflection mocked again, eyeing the razor on the counter.
    Andrew glanced down and picked it up, smashing it against the sink and pulling out the blade. His hand trembled and the tears started to flow again. He swiped them away angrily before bringing his shaking hand to his wrist. The tip of the blade touched his skin and a small drop of blood bloomed underneath it.
    “DO IT! COWARD!” his reflection screamed.
    “Shut the fuck up!” Andrew yelled as the blade dropped from his hand.
    Andrew drew his fist back and in a fit of rage he punched the mirror. Glass scattered in the sink and just as he was about to punch it again, he saw something that was impossible. It was a shadow, a figure of someone behind him and that slight hesitation slowed the impact of his second punch. He turned quickly, thinking someone was in the room with him, but there was no one there. Andrew looked at his hand and saw that there was blood dripping from his knuckles. He groaned in frustration as he wrapped it in one of the dirty motel hand towels before stepping out of the bathroom and walking to the bed. The mattress creaked under his weight and he could feel one of the springs poking at him from under the thin material.
    “Great! Now I have to wait until the blood coagulates before I can take a shower. That was a smart move, Harrison, real smart!”
    He looked over at his backpack knowing his kit was in there. He was itching to go get it but decided it was way too early, besides he would be going over to Riley’s later. Sighing, he glanced around the dirty room and settle on his backpack again. He strode over there and started digging through it for his sketch pad. He dug further and pulled his pencils out as well. He took it to the bed and sat with his back against the headboard. He flipped to a clean page, holding the pencil above the page. He hadn’t sketched in a long time, but he had a strong desire to do so right now. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to bring the figure to the forefront of his mind. He had