Red Flags

Two

I feel someone's thumb stroking my cheek. I slowly open my eyes and feel that I'm laying in his lap. I look up into those grey eyes. I guess he's being sweet today.

"You did so well baby girl"

My face scrunches up in confusion. What is he talking about? And why do I feel so cold?

I look down and I'm wrapped in a big ass fleece blanket while being naked underneath. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Eyes up here"

That smile. I fucking hate that smile

"I didn't do what you think I did. I like when you're awake for that"

Sick Bitch

"No. I did something better. Come"

He taps me gently to get up. Carefully lacing his fingers in mine and leading me to the bathroom

I'm placed in front of the mirror. He take my hair and pushes it behind my ear, exposing my neck. He leans down and gives my shoulder a small kiss. He slowly removes the blanket from my body and I close my eyes in response

"Open your eyes, Erin"

I gather the courage to look at myself in the mirror

"Do you like it?"

My body begins to shake. What the fuck did he do to me?

In. Out. Breathe in. Breath out.

I rub at my eyes to try and relive the headache that's vastly approaching. It's been two years since my "modifications" and I'm still not used to this shit. The right side of my body consistently feels heavier. Sometimes it hurts to walk and my arm...

I hiss and massage my shoulder. Taking a look around this basic ass interrogation room. I've been in here for two hours. Why? Can't charge a person that technically doesn't exist. It wasn't hard. Never had my license. Shit, I never had my permit. No fingerprints in the system. I was successfully erased from the world like Will Smith in Men In Black and when I escaped, I was. No I am, a walking Jane Doe

Just the way I want to be

They're out there trying to come up with a plan but shit. So am I. I can't go to jail, at least not yet. I plan to raising hell in my wake. I plan to make all of those to aided in my destruction suffer. I know what they say. If you seek revenge, you better dig two graves. Well it's hard a hell to kill a dead person.

Click

Michelson and Jenkins enter the interrogation room. Jenkins in front of me while Michelson stays near the door. Looking closely, you can tell his neck is bruised slightly. He gives me a hard look. Jenkins, on the other hand, softens her features as she assesses me.

"Assault and battery of an officer. That's a hell of a charge"

Her eyebrows twitches when she lies. They didn't find shit, but she laid down the first piece. Whether it's a pawn or checker has left to be determined.

I subtly start shaking. I put my hands in my lap and my head down. Relaxing my body to seem as vulnerable as I can. I gather enough spit in my mouth to make it seem as if I'm going to cry. I love a good game

Truth be told this would have been my reaction three years ago. But emotions got shut off for ...research purposes. I haven't felt anything but rage for the past two years.

"I'm sorry. I've been on my own for all over two days before you came banging on my door threatening to arrest me. I was scared."

I look up at Jenkins with teary eyes. Michelson cuts in