Hidden Under Perfection

Chapter 18: John

Before I leave the house I put in my brown contacts and then put the glasses on. I look at myself in the mirror and I stare at the strager standing there. I take Dad's car, I follow the directions that the GPS on my eye screen shows me. I arrive at a white marble building, it is about ten stories tall and there is a revolving door in the middle of the wall. I look at the time and I am five minutes early. I park the car across the street, and then I head towards the building.

Before now I have been unafraid but now it feels like someone is choking me and my heart races in my chest. I walk towards the building, my hands shaking and persperation forming on my forehead. I step into the door and as the sensors catch my movement the pannels start turning. I am herded into the building by the revolving glass walls. I step into the lobby and the first thing that I notice is that everything is white, everything from the floor tiles to the cushions on the chairs to the light fixtures. I sit down on one of the white couches and I take in my surroundings, there is a crystal chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling and there is a fake plant on the coffee table. Just then I see something move in the corner of my periphery vision. I turn to look and I find a girl dressed in an all white uniform, she has her dark hair tucked into a low bun. Her light eyes are a contrast to her dark skin.

"Mr. Ben Clarke?" she asks.

"Yes, thats me." I reply.

"follow me," she commands, turning and walking away. I scramble to keep up and my heart rises in my throat, my anxiety getting worse with every step. I try to calm down, I breath in through my nose and out through my mount. I remember that Claire is counting on me to accomplish this one thing. I am determined not to let her down. I start trying to make a mental map of the path that we are taking but the woman leads me around in circles and I soon lose all sense of direction. We stop infront of a door and as I take a step foward it opens without me touching it.

Inside a man in a black suit, the contrast between the dark color and the bright white is shocking. He looks about 30 and his skin is pail, as if he has no contact with the sun in a long time. His eyes are icy grey and they stare at me as I walk closer to his desk. His hair is jet black with blue undertones that show when the light hits it. I sit down slowly in the chair across the desk. His eyes follow my movements, assesing everything. His angular face shows no emotion and I swallow hard. My hands start sweating and I have to wipe them on my jeans. He sits there looking me over with his peircing gaze for at least two minutes before he talks, his voice is like two stones being rubbed together as he asks, "Your name is Ben Clarke, Correct?"

I swallow hard before responding, "Yes."

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Ben," his eyes dare me to say something clever back.

"Yes, sir." I am so scared that I am afraid to say anything that might have anything to do with my situation. My throat closes up and I struggle to breathe.

"Do you have any family that lives in the city?"

"No, sir. My parents died when I was 16 and I am an only child. "

"Thats unfortunate, you have my condolences. Where were you at 2:15 PM on June 16?"

"I was taking a nap after a particularly long job." My response makes him more trusting, or so it seems, but I don't trust him.

"You said you were a hacker on your application, how long have you been in that line of work?"

"Since I could read, My father taught me before he died." Sweat forms on my upper lip, I pretend to cough so that I can wipe it off.