Fragments.
That's what he saw.

His hand was bleeding, there was glass shards everywhere.

But at least he couldn't see the mirror anymore.

He looked around, glass surrounded him and he had bare feet.

But with a shrug he walked over and opened the door.

Walking down the hall, he left a trail of ruby droplets marking his journey.

The wall was painted white. He marred it with a bloody hand print, scratching his nails down the surface.

His legs gave.
He slid to the floor.

His other hand freed his belt from his jeans.

Snapping the leather studded side down across his legs that had betrayed him.

Anger vented into frustration.

Frustration simmered down to fear.

Fear collapsed in to pain.

And pain morphed into despair.

Shaking, sobbing and loosing control.

Traitorous hands wrapped the belt around his neck.

He took a deep breath.

His head pressed against the wall.

Tired.

The belt tightened and fastened.

Air escaped his lungs.

The shaking stopped, everything was okay again.

Then his eyes closed.

Peace...