Shock And Awe

Losing Track of Time

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"I can feel the hurt. There's something good about it. Mostly it makes me stop remembering."
~ Albert Borris

"She can paint a lovely picture, but this story has a twist. Her paintbrush is a razor, and her canvas is her wrist." ~ Amy Efaw

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Chapter 5

As I made my way towards my go-bag, my intention had been to get my dry clothes and everything I needed for my shower. Unfortunately, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I reached for the items I needed, and couldn't help but stop and stare. I didn't even recognize my own reflection in the mirror. I saw so many scars. I looked horrible. I literally couldn't find one thing in that reflection I actually liked. I never did think I was attractive, even when I was younger. But, looking at my reflection now, I couldn't see how anyone would ever want to look at me. Hell, I couldn't stand to look at me. I had dark circles under my eyes, a brand on my chest, a wound from the stake Ian drove into me, scars from various self-inflicted wounds, plus so many others flaws and problems...each with their own story. Looking at all of them, thinking back to where each one came from, was overwhelming. That overwhelming feeling, combined with all of the thoughts from a few minutes earlier, caused my mind to start racing even more. I couldn't even focus.

Then, everything changed, and I started working as if I were on auto-pilot. I really had no idea what I was grabbing from my go-bag or what I was even doing. I just started moving through the room and walking towards the bathroom. My thoughts were a blur and my body started to move as if being directed by some other force. I didn't even realize that one of the things I had picked up from my bag was a razor, until I felt the cold, sharp blade sliding down my arm. I watched the bright, red liquid flow down my arm, and drip into the sink, completely mesmerized by the patterns it was making on my arm and hand. The pain temporarily snapped me out of it. The racing thoughts in my head stopped for a short time.

I grabbed the items for my shower and stepped under the spray of water. The hot water and stinging feeling hitting my arm kept me grounded long enough for me to finish the shower. When I turned the water off and grabbed the towel, I realized my arm was still bleeding. I may have went a little too deep this time. But, I wasn't about to say anything to anyone about this. I had learned how to treat these kinds of wounds years ago...even those that probably needed professional medical treatment. This was one secret I was definitely going to keep from everyone. The last thing I needed or wanted was more pity...or worse, losing my job because I was thought to be too unstable to be in the field. I found my first aid kit in my go-bag and set to work on bandaging up my arm.

I heard a knock on my door. It was Morgan. "Hey Prentiss. You okay in there?" He yelled through the door.

"Yeah. Why?" I questioned.

"You were supposed to be downstairs 20 minutes ago" was Morgan's worried reply.

I glanced over at the clock and I realized I had been in the bathroom for over an hour. Apparently I had lost track of time. I tried to keep my voice calm so as not to cause him more concern. "Sorry about that. I didn't realize how long I had been. I tried to clean my clothes up before my shower. Just give me like 20 minutes, and I'll be down."

"Okay. Everyone else is already on the jet. Reid and I will just wait for you downstairs." He sounded worried, but didn't say anything else.

"Damn." I quietly muttered to myself. I really need to start getting a handle on whatever is going on in my head. I can't keep losing track of time like this, or everyone is going to know something more is going on with me.