Mistakes...?

Her tears were the only things that sobered her and brought her out of her dream world. They blurred her vision but managed to show a clearer sense of reality than she’s even experienced. Coughs and chokes that shiver up her chest and throat make her hunch her shoulders into a pathetic stance. She shakes her head slowly but the tears flow swiftly down her pale face as if a race were taking place. She closes her eyes in hopes of stalling the water that threatened to fall. Moisture seeps from every corner, crack, and duct it manages to find. She finds her frustrated hands floating to her eyes, rubbing and scraping to diminish every last sign of those annoying waterfalls. She opens her eyes to find her once=clean fingers stained with two coats-worth of mascara and a life supply of eyeliner. She jumps out of the chair and makes the embarrassing trip to the bathroom as quick as possible. The sink fills with black as the evidence runs from her hands. She looks in the mirror, sweeps under her eyes once more, and whispers:
I
Hate
You.