Ice.

The fuck-up you've all been waiting for.
When even setting one foot on front of the other is wrong, wrong, wrong. You wake up, you've made a mistake again.

Your imaginary friend has fallen downwards, aquired depression somewhere along the way, but it too much of a good actor to show it all the time. "Stop being so down, it's not like you", you mutter. "There is no self for to be like. I have nothing to base myself on", the imaginary friend replies.

Suspended in time?

A soft, liquid voice making its way down your neck, ice cold, freezing you, hypothermia. Blue veins turn to icicles, the sharp tip threating your netting of flesh, ready to burst through. There will be no blood.

"I am no more", the voice says, and repeats itself. You open your eyes and pull your head from the security blanket to face your fear. It's in the water. It's in the mirror.

Glass crunching, ching-ching-ching go the chimes.
Suspended. In. Time.
"This isn't real, I'm melting, I'm melting!"

Icicles dripping in time with the blood on the ceiling, leaking through from floor 26. We're high enough, take the fall. Take the fall. .... ... ....

But you can't face your fear! Turn to the mirror, embrace what you have become, a shadow cast of your former self! Turn up the volume and explosions approach. Look in to the mirror, motherfucker. Look at what you are.

You turn to face the mirror... and get the oddest sensation... as if, you're staring at your friend.