It was strangely warm and damp in this hidden room. This time, she flipped on a light. The light revealed unpainted drywall, and dusty tiled floor. A curtain was hanging down, dividing the room in half. A rusted sink stood on one wall, and she walked up to it, in this light her face looked like the angel that was portrayed in the picture. She walked up to the sink, and looked into the stained and cracked mirror that hung over it. She turned on the water, that came out too fast at first and it splattered her blouse, she proceeded to wash her face. The makeup came off. The angel face was gone. Now she looked more skeletal. Her cheekbones stood out and her eyes had turned black. Her lips were gray and when she smiled it looked painful but she looked pleased by the pain. The humid air made her hair frizzy and you could see scars running down her face, pulling down one corner of her eye.
She proceeded to walk behind the curtain, and this side of the room housed shelves on the walls that were full of more angel faced women. However, right in front of her was another, very real, woman. She was in a chair, or really she was chained to it. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she had cried for a long time, and face was gray and thin. She looked up at the scarred woman, who was staring at her, she was not happy. No, she was angry at this frail angel. The air was still and you could feel it move when she breathed out. Breathing in the room would be painful. The air would stick to your throat and lungs and be hard to push out again. She pulled a picture off the shelf, and it was the woman in the chair. In this picture she was smiling widely, and her hair was curly and perfect. Her face was round and young. She had no shadows under her eyes. The chained woman shrunk back into herself.
"I'm going to help you," the scarred women said and when she spoke it was like a disturbing news report you couldn't help but listen to. "Just like I helped the other girls. Just like people helped me. I'm helping you - helping you." The poor girl shook her head, her eyes pleading.
"No, no, no, no, it's okay, trust me," she said, smiling her painful smile, "it will be better this way. I know, I know. It's scary but really it's not." She was twisting her hair around her finger, twisting it tightly. You could see her face fighting a wince. She looked at the chained girl. She reached out and traced her finger over the girl's cheek. She trembled.
"Oh it's really not that bad," she said rocking back and forth on her heels. "Trust me. trust me, trust me." The girl was squeezing her eyes shut as if she could shut out the woman's voice by not looking at her. The air could have been sliced by a knife. The woman pulled a blade out of her pocket and played with it. The girl snapped. The scream tore through the air and the woman shook her head.
"Oh no sweetie – honey - screaming only makes it worse, come on, angel, come on," the woman said slowly becoming louder. The girl stopped.
Part 2/3
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