Although both mine and Jackson's mother sat in chairs perpendicular to me, an emptiness gnawed at my being. The chair that once held his form sat vacant next to my bedside. He's been gone a whole hour and my mind longed to know what he was doing, my body longed for his hand in mine. But neither condition would be satisfied. 

The pain was beginning to surface, pushing through the medicine. I cringed in pain as I tried to push myself into a sitting position. My mother rushed to assist me.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

I couldn't look at her, knowing that if I did then she would only make me lay back down. The pain shown on my face bright as day and I gritted my teeth. "I need to go to the bathroom."

A lie. I simply needed to be alone. 

"Okay."

I managed to shuffle my way weakly across the room, taking my drip with me. One of the wheels squeaked, taking my attention away from the heightening pain in my abdomen. As soon as I reached the bathroom I closed the door and locked it quickly. 

My hand rested perilously against the cool surface of the sink, my reflection staring back at me from the other side of the mirror hanging above it. But I felt like it wasn't me. I felt different, foreign even in the sense of the word. It was him. Jackson was morphing into the vision of the mirror, swirling within my very own being. He was there, just under the surface. But it wasn't that that seemed to haunt me now. It was the fact that I had become vulnerable, so much so that when he wasn't here I felt lost and incomple