The gentle sound of waves crashing on the shore was a sweet lullaby. In her lavish beachside suite, lay an alluring, young woman who wept enough to fill all the seven seas. She mourned for the days when her toes sinking into millions of grains of sand felt like more than just a filth. It was a simpler time. She knew who she was. That was before the storm, though, and this was now.  
Depression had consumed every fiber of her being like a hurricane devouring an infinitesimal, lonely island. Every day, wave after wave, she lost more of herself the way the shore succumbs to the tide. Soon, she no longer recognized the woman in the mirror. 
Not too long ago, a bright young girl was the one staring back at her. She knew the girl, she knew herself. But, like all good things, her innocence had come to an end. She no longer looked at the world as an ocean of opportunities and adventures just waiting to be explored. Her life was about as abundant as a dried up, abandoned lake. Everything she'd once known was destroyed. Everyone she once loved was gone. She sat up and looked deep into the eyes reflected back to her in the broken mirror. 
"You did this," she whispered, barely able to hold eye contact with the person she'd come to loathe. 
The mirror became a window. She was looking at someone else, at least that's what she told herself. It was then that the reflection's face seemed to twist into an evil smirk. 
"We did this, my love," it growled.  
Her eyes grew in fear and she picked the nearest item and threw it into the evil creature, shattering it and, ultimately, herself. She couldn't take it anymore. All of the voices, the tears, the loneliness, the lies. She picked up a bottle of Zoloft and unscrewed the cap. 
"Ironic," she grimaced. And with that, the pills were down her throat chased by a burning whiskey. She shut her eyes, prayed to every God she knew, and was put into an eternal rest.