Retrospect

Two

   I woke up the next morning feeling better than yesterday. The shower from last night reminded me how long I hadn't taken a break from worrying about my parents, and the scent of vanilla shampoo wiped out the smell of stinky feet and unwashed hair from the previous days. My shower had informed me afterwards that I was 100% clean, which I felt like I hadn't been since my parents were claimed to be dead. 

   I sat down at my counter, having just changed and brushed my teeth after breakfast. "What's the weather tonight?" I asked aloud. If my fridge didn't answer, my TV or my shower in the other room would.

   My TV was the one to speak. "The weather tonight in Laurier Section will be cloudy with a high of 50 degrees," it said. Great, I would have to dress warmer than usual tonight. The more layers of clothes I wore, the more it would slow me down.

   I also needed an outfit that would make me blend in with the workers, but not just anyone could get their hands on a real uniform. The only option was a fake, yet that was hard to find and wasn't sold in normal stores. I couldn't get that unless I found a Butterfly Shop somewhere in the city. Those popped up anywhere and only stayed for a day or two before packing up everything, going to another section. They usually carried the more common illegal necessities, things that criminals wanted—false lenses, convincing disguises, sometimes drugs—and I guess I was a criminal now too. If any store had the worker uniform, it would be a Butterfly Shop.

   I got up from my chair and went to my bedroom, pulling on a warm pair of socks and some black sneakers. Looking around the room, I found my black, wavy-haired wig and gathered my blonde hair in my hands before slipping it on. I had already gone outside with my real hairstyle and color before and I had already tried about a million other ways to make myself look different. Every dayI had to start fresh, making sure no one suspected the girl with the brown hair was the same girl with the blonde.

   This particular wig I was putting on I hadn't used in a while, so hopefully no one would remember me in it. I headed over to my closet and selected a black jacket, zipping it up over my shirt. I was already wearing my warmest pair of pants so there wasn't much I could do to dress any warmer. On the way out of my bedroom, I picked up my gloves laying on the dresser and put them on my hands. I didn't know what to do with the device I had stolen, but I decided to stuff it in my jacket pocket. I couldn't leave it here alone. I had gone through so much to figure out it was the actual key to the building and it took so much time to actually convince myself to steal it, so there was absolutely no way I was going to let it out of my sight.

   I grabbed anything else I would need, including my pocket knife (which was honestly just for show), and left the usual way out my apartment door. If I kept sneaking out every single time I left, the building's security worker would realize I hadn't been out in a long time and he would come up to check on me. I couldn't have him finding me gone without checking out.

   The halls of my apartment building were long and quiet as I made my way to the elevator, the sound of my every step echoing off the walls. I reached the elevator and stepped inside immediately, the doors already open and waiting for me. "First floor," I ordered, the doors closing at my command. As the elevator jumbled once, it descended and dinged with every passing floor. I prepared myself for the moment the doors would open and reveal the tiny lobby where the security worker would be, standing at the entrance.

   A second or two later, the elevator dinged once more and I felt it shake a little before it allowed me to leave. As soon as those doors opened, I strode over to the security worker who was a tall man with a curly mustache. I never took the time to learn his name, yet he knew everything about me. He widened his eyes and I looked up into them. He scanned me with them and nodded. "Alright, you can go," he said, motioning for me to leave through the doors. I ducked my head and continued on my way onto the streets.