Viciously reborn

The girl in the mirror

I awoke with a start for the second time, although this time, I didn't feel like my mind was being shredded into little bits and pieces. As I slowly tilted my head up and turned to look around, my eyes drank up the dusty and worn down house around me. "Where am I?" Wait.. "Why does my voice sound like this?" I'm so confused. My voice sounds higher has a more airy tone. I look down at the rumpled and scratchy bed i so how came to be lying in. The blanket is thick and brown, like burlap, and has small rips, like it's been used for years. Something bright red catches my eye. I clumsily grab for it, and pull. "OW!" Shit. That hurt. What is it? I blindly follow the red up, and it seems to be attached to my head. "Is this hair? My hair is brown though.." The mysterious hair was a bright and striking red, like fresh blood. Memories came flooding back, piece by piece. My unhappiness and sorrow tugged at my throat, threatening tears and a runny nose. Just as my eyes began to water, I heard the trodding of hooves, and the bustling of a working town. This is so weird. I can't cry right now. I have to figure out what's going on. With a start, I push back the scratchy cover and swing my legs around to the end of the creaking and old bed. My legs have thousands of freckles, like I've worked in the sun for years. I gingerly get to my feet, and try to take a step forward. "God damn it that hurts!" Even walking hurts, but I'm so curious. I glance around the worn down house. There's only two doors, and three windows. The bed is against the back wall, and next to the front door is a measly kitchen, with what looks similar to a stove. There is a table with two chairs, and a rustle looking pail with water. One window is above the bed I just got up from, and the other two are on either side of the front door. The sunlight from the sky hits the windows, and I can see the little dust specks swirling in the air. It looks almost peaceful, and I can feel the lull of sleep beckoning me to return. Of course, I ignore it and walk the the door opposite of the kitchen. As I open the door, it creaks, and I suddenly think about how stupid I am. What if there's someone behind this door? Will they kill me? Why am I not at a hospital? Thousands of questions swirl in my mind, like brutal paper leaves swirling in the wind on a bitter fall day. Panic starts to creep up my throat, closing my lungs. "What..." all my thoughts disappear as I look in the mirror. There stands an unfamiliar girl, with bright read hair, identical to the hair I had seen earlier. She had dark green eyes, with bright green specks. Her skin was tan, and freckles covered her entire body. I glanced down at my hands, and the were covered in weathered calluses, like I'd worked for years. I reached out and touched the broken and dirty mirror, only to touch the girl in the reflection. My hands moved to my face and hair, gently prodding and pulling. I poked my cheek and pulled my hair. The girl in the mirror copied my movements. "Is that... me?" I couldn't believe it. I began to look more at... myself? She had a leaner body, but slightly more curves. Her arms were toned, and had muscle, like she was used to difficult labor. Her torso was long, and her legs were longer. The girl in the mirror was tall, and had defined quads and calves. I quickly glanced around. The small room with the even smaller mirror seemed to be a bathroom. There was a crude toilet. Nothing like the ones I had used all my life. The was also a big metal tub, with a small pail. "A bathtub?" I asked myself. I hope I don't have to use that. What about hot water? I walked back out to the main room of the house and spotted a wardrobe. Seeing the wardrobe reminded me of how cold I was. I glanced down to see goose bumps forming on my arms and legs. I was only wearing a worn out night gown after all. I opened the wardrobe to find two skirts, three pairs of pants, four shirts, a cloak with a pouch, and a dagger. I glanced around once more, just to make sure no one else was in the house, and quickly grabbed a pair of brown pants, a white shirt, and the cloak, before quickly dragging it back to the dingy bathroom. Putting the clothes on was a struggle, as my limbs were still screaming in pain. The clothes fit my body perfectly, almost as if they were made for me. I glanced in the mirror once more. "This can't be real life. That's not me!" I once again began to grab at my hair and body. My hair was fell down to the middle of my back with slight waves. When I lived in Chicago, before where ever this is. I had shoulder length straight brown hair. Despair began to work its grasp around my mind, and tears begin to drip from these unfamiliar eyes. I began to realize what I had done. Will I never see my friends again? Even if I felt like they didn't truly care about me, shock slammed my brain. Before I knew, hot tears and snot streamed my face, and even attempting to wipe them away did next to nothing. I limped over the bed and ripped the burlap cover up. What if someone comes home? Does anyone live here? But I can't leave yet... my best bet was hiding in the big metal tub in the bathroom. I hurried back to the bathroom, barely looking where I walked because my tears blurred my vision. I clambered into the tub and covered myself with the itchy blanket, as my tears streamed down this unfamiliar freckles face. I began to hiccup and exhaustion began for me to sleep. I'm so scared... I don't want to sleep... Alas, I fell into the soft and comforting hug of darkness.