You Don't Know Me

Removal, Reconstruction, Relocation

        "Forget your pasts. Forget who you were." The woman driving said to the gentleman and me sitting in the backseat. My heart rate was still elavated and I couldn't stop hearing the gunshot. Tears stained my cheeks, along with the mascara they dragged with them. 

        "You are no longer Ted Willard and Charlotte St Louis. You will be assigned new names and a new past. Get used to each other, you'll be together quite awhile. Separating you could be dangerous. You might move around a lot, depending on our killer. It's best not to make roots in new places. Mr. Willard, Ms. St Louis, welcome to Witness Protection Program." She said as we pulled up to a building seemingly made purely from glass. 

        "Mr. Berring will take care of you from here. Best of luck to you both." We exited the car along with the large man seated in the passenger seat. The car sped off and I watched it take my normal life with it. 

        "Charlotte, right?" The gentleman asked. I nodded dazedly, "C'mon, we should go inside, it's a little cold out here." He suggested holding out his hand. I took it and its warmth gave me some comfort. I held it tighter, treating it like a life line. He squeezed my hand and led me inside. 

        It was far warmer inside, making me realize how cold I really was. I pulled my thin sweater closer to my body. It was an unseasonably cold night for California in March. We walked past workers in suits and people of various types. 

        We passed a woman who looked shell shocked and emaciated. I realized that she was a reflection of what I must look like right now. 

        I grabbed a strand of my long blonde hair and twirled it anxiously around my free hand. My breathing hastened and I was starting to lose it again. I felt my hand being squeezed and I looked up at the gentleman--I'd forgotten his name. 

        "Breathe." He instructed. I continued to look at him and mimic the rise and fall of his chest. It started to calm me. 

        "This is our stop." Mr. Berring said when we reached a large metal door that looked like all the other large metal dorrs in the building. He scanned hisd card and opened the dorr for us. A woman sat inside the room at the head of a large conference table. She gestured for us to have a seat and Mr. Berring closed the door behund us, leaving us with alone with a stranger. 

        "Hello. My name is Jade Smith. I'll be briefing you on your new lifestyle and the particulars of that." She said, "Have a seat, you'll be here awhile." 

        "Well, my name is Ted and this is--" Ted started. 

        "Do not finish that sentence, those are no longer your names, your identity changed the moment you witnessed a murder. Do you understand?" She spoke harshly. 

        "Yes." I snapped. I was losing it. My hand was squeezed and I took a breath. She looked up from her papers and regarded me with what looked like boredom. 

        "So, let's start with reconstruction," She started. We sat and I removed my hand from his grasp and wrung my hair gently, "Now the first thing is names and appearances. Then we come up with a back story for you both. Social security, bank accounts, credit cards, passports, driver's licenses, and a marriage license will be assigned to you." She spoke concisely. 

        "Wait, a marriage license?" Ted asked leaning forward and furrowing his eyebrows. 

        "Yes, it's the most logical back story. any other story and you would be separated, which could lead to issues regarding your safety and mental health. What you two have experienced will take a toll on your psyches. Post traumatic stress disorder is common after such an incident. Having someone around who understands can be beneficial in stabalizing your mental state enough to go about your daily lives." She explained looking through her papers. 

        "But we've only just met. We don't even know each other." He said.

        "Then I suggest you get friendly." She stated simply, "Anyways, as far as your appearances go, reconstructive surgery may be necessary but rarely is. Hair dye, hair cuts, new clothes, it's all neccessary to recreate who you are and make you as unrecognizable as possible." She finished. She gathered her papers and tapped them against the table. 

        "Come with me. Our specialists will have a look at your facial features and figure out how to change it." She said walking briskly to the door. 

        We followed suit and trailed behind her as her heels clacked loudly on the marble floors of the hall way. 

        We came to a door that looked exactly like all the others and she opened it with her card. We entered and found a salon style rooom with an asian woma and a rather tall, older man with a quiff. They were slightly out of place in the air of professionalism that seemed to suffocate us in this building. 

        "Hi!  My names Anna, and this is Dimitri. We'll be helping you look like totally different people." She said with a whole lot of cheer. Ted and I were both shocked at the difference in demeanor from everyone we've met this evening. Or morning. I wasn't positive. 

        "Should I even bother with introductions?" Ted asked. 

        "Probably not. Please have a seat and we'll get started." She said. We sat in the chairs and Anna pumped the lever to bring my chair up. She studied my face intently and moved it every which way. She mumbled to herself for awhile and then spoke up talking to Dimitri. 

        "High cheek bomes, uplifted upper lip, large eyes. Thin, symetrical, scar through the right eyebrow." She said. I was surprised at how well she described my face. I couldn't describe it that well. I suppose it is her job though. 

        "High cheekbones, though not prominent, full upper and lower lips, strong jaw line, large forehead and recognizable eye color." 

        "So," Anna said standing up straight, "It's looking like reconstructive surgery isn't necessary for either of you, though you, mister, you'll have to wear contacts because brown hair a blue eyes are too recognizable a combination." 

        "I think that we make them shockingly recognizable, which gives them an edge. This guy is gonna be like,'nah it can't be her she was blonde.'" Dimitri added. The image of that man invaded my head and all I could see was him. All I could hear was the gun and the woman falling. The next thing I saw was the cieling and Anna looking over me with concern. 

        "Are you alright love?" She asked. I nodded and tried to sip up. Ted came into my vision and placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down gently. 

        "Just stay down, you passed out." He said placing his hand under my head. I stared at him and watched his chest breathing in and out and matched it. The stars cleared from my vision and slowly i sat up and then gradually stood. 

        "You okay now?" He asked. 

        I nodded, but I knew that I never ever would be again.