Stellify; Jasper Hale. (Book I)

---Chapter Twenty-Three---

Twenty-three

Becoming a stranger to yourself is something few have the displeasure of experiencing. A reflection simply becomes a foreigner, burning our gazes away in anguish. Not recognising who we are, down to the biological DNA of our own organs, unable to understand the map of our being. Those who have experienced this would not wish it upon their worst enemy. So, when Evangeline found herself in a stranger's bathtub, staring into the reflection of the taps, she was looking at a stranger.

She felt so disconnected from herself, her morals, who she wished to become. Her aspirations of healing and running from her past sank down the plughole, becoming numb to her surroundings. Disassociation was such an odd word to her as she swirled her fingers in the soapy water. The word connoted to being connected still in the negative, just not the meaning of familiarity anymore. Those three letters at the start tear the friendly former word apart, as if a mirage of what once was normal. She felt that way; unable to associate the former Evangeline – Eve to those who saw her in a soft light – in herself. Instead, she faced alien limbs, acting mechanically, prosthetics of a sort. They combed through the grime in her hair, the locks that didn't feel as soft as they were in Forks.

When she looked in the mirror, Evangeline's lips had shuddered out a gasp. It wasn't as though she didn't know what she looked like before the incident. She knew she had brunette hair, hazel eyes, paler skin. What really caused the sound was the grotesque feeling that she was darker than before. Almost as if her reflection felt darker, more tainted. Yes, you can just write it off as being traumatised – for the umpteenth time – but this felt different. In her reflection, hollow eyes met the woman in the bathroom. Naked, null, and unresponsive. Scrapes scattered her body, littering the pearlescent chest of the brunette. If she had wondered if a sense of vitality was injected into her when she arrived in Forks, Washington, that was violently extinguished now. Her eyes looked a little bit duller, a ghost in place of the girl who once tried to escape her fate.

A knock on the bathroom door was what coaxed Evangeline away from her dark reflection.

"Evangeline, I have brought you a dressing gown. It is all I could find for now, but do you need help putting it on?" A soft voice echoed through the mahogany.

Looking down at herself, Evangeline realised after a few moments that Caius would see her naked if she said yes. Yet, although she was normally extremely insecure about her body, her foreign voice muttered an 'okay'. Eve would not have entertained even the thought of having a man dress her, when she was most vulnerable. But Eve was voiceless now. Locked away in safe keeping while her duplicate took the wheel.

Eve would have been screaming, thrashing around if she could, but at the very least Caius was respectful. His eyes were shut as he entered, black dressing gown in hand as he let Evangeline slide it on. He never touched her in a way that was seen as 'extra' or more than necessary to put on the garment. The silence that flooded the room was neither uncomfortable, nor comfortable. Neutral. Like a doctor helping their patient bathe after extraneous surgery.

If one word could sum up the attitude: professional. Painfully so.

As Caius glided through the hallways, Evangeline slowly accompanied him. Her wet locks befriended the salty tears, cascading down her hollow cheekbones. Whether Evangeline knew she was crying was beyond her, all she knew was that she was moving. Caius' freezing hand gripping her left shoulder, they walked. He had told her that they were going to the throne room once again, so that Evangeline could understand what was to happen next.

She understood that being ushered into bloodlust central was going to provoke issues most likely, at this point Evangeline thought it was the best way to go. No need to prolong the feeling of disconnection. She wouldn't blame someone for being unable to control their impulses. She knew she couldn't hours prior.