Like sunshine and starlight, she shone. And he swore that if he stared at her long enough, he would go blind. But he knew she could not see what he saw. He knew that when she gazed briefly into the bathroom mirror, or accidentally made eye contact with her own reflection while rushing past a particularly clean shop window, that all she saw was darkness. All she saw were the broken shards of herself, dancing around and cutting her up from the inside, mocking her. She saw a body filled with shadows, a caged monster trying to claw it’s way out of captivity, getting closer and closer to achieving its freedom every passing minute of the day. Where he saw Heaven, she saw Hell.