Masterminds - h.s

CH 6

Blaze Edith

May 16th, 2014.
9:47am.

A tight breath awakes me; my very own panic. Once again.

Sweat coats the back of my neck and joints — My back rests on the soft mattress.

Normally, I would be at ease.

Except, I have no idea how my body ended up here.

One minute I was seated on the floor,

Blink.

I was no longer seated, nor on the floor.

I wince at the brightness from the half opened window as my exhausted body drags itself to the living room in search for answers.

I twist the rusty doorknob, quietly exiting the room. My eyes search for familiar faces — The smell of waffles guides me to the couch.

M̶a̶t̶t̶

Truth, and Vienna each hold a plate with waffles, fruits and syrup - Stone and Riot are spotted as soon as I turn to face the kitchen.

Riot locks eyes with me.

"What happened last night?" I ask.

"You had an episode." He responds, and suddenly no one is brave enough to even acknowledge my presence.

I exhale, "Anyone hurt?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "Not this time."

"I'm assuming someone managed to go inside my room, I'm not even sure how I got in bed." I speak softly, allowing myself to even laugh.

I'm hoping the soft tone will ease the harsh reality.

Riot nods, "I took care of it." He breaks eye contact, "Grab some food. You'll be late." 

I do as told, avoiding any other interactions unless necessary.

Post episode days are tough on all but mostly on Vienna, who just removed herself from the room since I've arrived to stay.

"We'll take care of her, just finish the job." Stone says, "Remember, the gas station had no security cameras. There is no evidence, don't get too sucked in."

"What happened at the gas station?" Truth asks.

I take a hold of my car keys and exit the apartment.

As I look through my review mirror I catch a glimpse of the mess I made of myself last night—To the point where recognising the woman staring back at me is a task.

My hair is frizzy instead of its usual waves, smudged mascara underneath my eyes, same maroon shirt and leather pants as yesterday. I look down at my body; no shoes.

My forehead rests on the steering wheel, eyes shut and a breath is released.

I give myself three minutes before reaching for the extra pair of boots I keep under my seat. Inside them, a fresh pair of socks.

Once the car is up and running I'm able to check the time.

10:03am.

Late. Far too late. Late enough to bring up suspicion.

I speed, my head lost in the mist of thoughts I've created while my foot glued itself to the gas petal — This is unsafe.
I slow down.

It was the one decision which led me to the station in one piece.

O̶l̶y̶m̶p̶i̶a̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ j̶o̶b̶ d̶o̶n̶e̶.

Harry Styles was only seen in that gas station once.