The Fatal Price

Chapter 1- A Clean Slate

It's beautiful. The faint, bright blue intricately decorated and intertwined with unmistakeble cracks of grey and black, like a shattered windowpane. Sometimes there seemed to be a storm brewing beneath the depths, other times the waters appeared to reflect the calm sky above. Occasionally, a hint of sea foam green makes an appearence. Unique and precious like turquoise, yet seldom noticed when the surface they grace with their beauty is downcast. To describe them now, it might be said that a mist had descended, gently disturbing the stillness. How could something enduring so much pain, be beautiful?

I step back from the mirror and dry the tears from my eyes. There is no going back, no second glances, nothing left of the life I have loved once I walk out of this beautiful prision that I once called home. Who knew that such events would transpire, or that my dreams would be coming true under such circumstances. Certainly not me: as I check my reflection, noting the seemingly distant and foreign expression on my face, I still cannot believe that this is actually happening. Today, I am no longer the quirky nobody from a town unheard of beyond the borders of North Carolina. Once my feet find their way past the thick oak doors and into the long black limo which holds my new life, I am Amia. Singer, songwriter, actress, and.... trained assasian. No last name required.

Closing my eyes, feeling the aura of my soon-to-be-erased life one final time, it's almost surreal. This isn't me anymore, this is...her- the girl I used to be. the dreamer with a head full of ambitions who was stuck in a rut. the girl that soon will have never existed. "Goodbye," I softly say to myself, "It's time to move on, I guess."  I adjust my long, ice blond hair- until yesterday it was a chestnut brown- once more, and in the corner of my eye I see movement; In one fluid motion I spin around, ready for anything. But it's only my mirror. I walk up to it, now paranoid that I am being watched, and examine the stranger I see glaring inquistively back at me...

Her hair flows softly down to her waist, not much unlike a waterfall. She is delicately pale, remisnescent of an elephant's ivory tusks, and her eyes pierce through me like an all too familar dagger. A black leather jackets fits snuggly over a deep red tank top and tight black jeans, paired with black boots. Undectable to any sensors, a Victorian era silver, jewel encrusted dagger lies just inside the lining of her jacket, meant not for an innocent antique store, but for unspeakable acts which haunt her every waking moment.  She, is me. This is who I am now, regardless of who I might have been. 

This apartment holds too many memories now, I think to myself, It's time to let go. I put on my sunglasses, take a deep breath, and close the heavy door behind me as I leave.