[The boy wipes at his face, head down as he continues to scrub and scrub, but the puddle around him only gets wider, thicker, deeper. It's like he's sinking into it. But still he scrubbing, even as his hands disappearing under the thick red pool.
Can he smell it? Fresh, rotting, decayed death all rolled into one odor leaking around the room.
The little boy looks up, directly at the mirror, face streaked with blood trailed in thick rivulets down his cheeks from his eyes.
Eyes that are completely gone. All that is left is empty sockets.]