They say shards will bring luck.

“Why do you say that? Please don’t break my mirror. I still need it.”
“Are you vain or something? I’m the girl here.”
“I noticed.”
I wouldn’t doubt that. He put his arm around me, which made walking a whole lot more difficult. But I didn’t fight him off. We walked on, through the empty streets. You’d think there would be people all the time, but that’s not true. They appear at certain hours, as if it’s agreed upon. But how could drunk people remember such things? They probably had gone to sleep already. Maybe we could have seen the sun rise if we had waited a bit longer. But we walked on.

“Where are you taking me?”
“To my place.”
“Good. I’m thirsty.”
“I’ve got something to drink there.”
“I want water, I think.”
He laughed and pinched my shoulder. I didn’t pinch him back.
“Water, that’s for fish. I’ve got better stuff over there.”
“Okay then”, I said obediently. I was behaving like the good girl, which obviously pleased him. The tapping sounds of our shoes echoed against the walls. Slaloming around lampposts that dropped their light upon us. As if it were all spotlights, waiting for the action to happen so they could show it to everyone.

Avoid the light and the audience. This was not a play.
Beer bottles were left like bread crumbles, to find your way home again. I watched them, my fingers itched, but I was behaving like a good girl. My hand ran up his back. He smiled, but not at me.
“Are we there yet?”
“It’s the house over there.”
“Good.”

As he opened the door, I looked over my shoulder. We were leaving the stage, heading for the wings. No spotlights, no spectators. No saviours either. But I would survive. My fingers were itching. If only you could have seen me, there’d been a standing ovation. There was no one around though.
I followed him inside.

“This is my room.”
The clicking sound of a locked door followed my entrance. I sat down on a chair.
“What do you want to drink? I’ve got – let’s see… Rum? Gin? Beer?”
“Water?”
“Are you serious?”, he laughed.
“What else do you have?”
He took a bottle of beer out and showed it to me.
“That’s all.”
“Perfect.”
“Don’t you want anything… stronger?”
“I’ve drunk too much already.”
“No, you haven’t.”
That smile again. I reached for the bottle, took it, opened it, drank.
“Well, at least you know how to drink fast…”
It’s all because of the plan. You never know for sure when the curtain will fall, do you? Will the lights guide me home? You know, those lights at the front of the stage. Footlights. Guiding my feet back home. Safe and alone. I’m behaving like a good girl.

“Are you okay? You look a bit… nauseous.”
“I’m fine”, I whispered. I opened my hand to find the imprints of my finger nails in the flat of my hand. It almost looked like my hand was a map and the imprints showed the way home.
His hands were suddenly too close, running up my back, searching their way. I pushed him back off. Before he could do anything more, I stood upright. He tried to get up and reached for me.

But I smashed the bottle against the wall.

He stared at me, surprised and a bit shocked. He had freezed for a moment.”They say shards will bring luck”, I said.
“Why have you done that?” he asked uncomprehendingly. He still stared at the broken glass. My hand clasped the neck of the bottle, with the crenated edge.
I was no longer behaving like a good girl.

“What the hell are you doing? What is this shit?”
He started freaking out. Maybe he finally realized why I was here. Not to have a drink together. This is what you get when you deceive people. This is what you deserve.

***

There was still no sunrise, but at least the spotlights were still on. I was walking home with the sweet taste of revenge and a triumphant feeling running through my veins. Justice is what you make it. Justice feels good.
There was still no one around. If I closed my eyes though, the tapping sounds of my shoes almost seemed like there were people all around clapping for me.