Faked Deaths

Chapter 4

I stare into the mirror of Andre's bathroom. He had a house, or I think it was. One in the middle of nowhere, one like I have never saw or dreamed of before. I should feel scared but I don't. I should feel conscious but I don't. I should feel Human but I don't. 

Unless it was of some type of military base.  Why do I keep trusting people? People who put me in the predicament where I'm too scared to even trust myself. Maybe it's because now, I have nothing left to trust. I have no idea where my true mother is and when she even went missing or why those men were after me and how they knew my father. 

I look deep into the mirror like it's going to change what happened.  Like it's going to take the pain out of my soul.  I rub my hair and scratch it to get it to stay in place. I stare at my new pixie cut and touch it but every time I do I wince like I'm in pain because I have memories of how it led to getting cut in the first place. 

I slowly turn on the water of the sink and wipe my face. Then take one last glance in the mirror and see  Red Eagle. His prickly hair on his face from not shaving for a while. His tiny shaped lips. He grins evilly. Looking so realistic. He takes out his hand and touches my face, I look away and I look into the Large Mirror again and see red eagle, then I scream.  

I wake up panting gasping from air and sweat beaded around my body.  I look around and for once in a lifetime I'm glad I'm not in my bedroom.  I'm glad I'm not in a place where somebody else made it a place where I'm scared to be. A place where I once loved and now hated. Even if this place only consist of a bed, a night stand and a rectangular mirror. 

I sit up slowly, look at my legs as I pull the covers over my body and walk towards the mirror and notice I'm wear a tank top and underwear. All over my body is bruises and scratches. I notice my hand shaking and make it into a fist. My legs won't stop trembling as I continue to study my bruised body. I look at my forehead and notice I have stitches on the right area of my forehead. I touch it and wince. 

At this point I feel like I want to cry, but I don't. I feel as emotionless as Andre seems. Maybe this was what my dream was about. About being empty about losing my life and this is my life. I hear the door creak and open quickly. I swoop my head around fast and secure to be ready for the worst. 

"Everything Alright?" Andre asks, his voice like before without emotion.  

No, I didn't even know who I am anymore I think to myself. I nod my head trying to make myself just believe I am okay. There was once a wise man who said speak things into existence and it will become true. 

 He looks at me like he knows how I really feel and I see emotion in his eyes for the first time ever. But he looks over to the rectangular mirror and looks back at me. "Good." He throws clothes at me and I catch it. "Get dressed." He leaves the door as quickly as he came. I bite my lip. 

Then walk towards the mirror as I throw my sweatpants on then my sweatshirt and zip up my jacket half way.  I took in the soft clothes as it was also the first clean one I had since.. the incident.  I made sure the clothes weren't too tight because they hurt when I put them on and hurt that it was too tight. The light then automatically turned on. Like someone had clapped twice and turned it on.  My eyes got heavy not used to the light. 

"You may now use the lavatory, follow the blinking lights down the hall." The intercom says and over and over in a french woman's voice.  The door opposite from where Andre came in opens and I put on the slipper and walk out. I hurry to the bathroom as I hear other doors start to open as they unlatch like mines did. I get in and grab a packet of a toothbrush that is in the cabinet and the toothpaste next to it. And brush my teeth. Spit and look back up into the mirror and fix my hair to where it swooped over my eye.