She looked in the mirror
Looking back at her
Was a monster
A monster that was made
A monster that needed to be defeated.

Who would win this battle?

She is lying there
Smoking gun in her hands
Unseeing eyes stare up at the ceiling
A trail of blood and brains

The monster grins...He won this round.

She looks at the bottles
Bottle of pills and a bottle of Jack
Just take them...wash them down
The monster whispers.
She complies
Drifting off into a never-ending sleep.

The monster smiles...He won again.

She studies her reflection
In the blade in her hand
Just a few quick slits
And it will all be over.
Trails of sticky, warm blood
Run down her hands
She watches as her life
Pumps out with the last beats
Of her heart.

The monster laughs...he always wins.

*In the end, it does not matter how it came
What matters is He won.