"Are you afraid of the mirror?
Are you afraid of the person that stares back...
The monster that stares back...
The hideous monster that always stares back?
Are you afraid of the cuts and the bruises and the festering blemishes that riddle its features?
They belong to you...
The cuts and the bruises and the festering blemishes belong to you.
And you will never be rid of them...
And you will always be lesser...
You will never be beautiful...
You will always be less...
Less than those blessed ones who smile at themselves in the mirror...
Who have no fear to be seen as they are...
Who have never suffered a blemish or cut...
Who have always been beautiful...
You...
You ugly thing...
You twisted, ugly thing.
Look in the mirror and tell me that isn't you."

She had learned to love him, to hold him to her heart when she felt lonely and cold. He was always beside her, the one comfort when she soaked her sheets in tears and blood. He completed every part of her, and she grew to adore him. To need him. To desire him.

I would serve you...I would accept the abuse and the molestation all for you...yes I would...if it will please you.

But only if it will please you.