Outsider

Twenty-three

She weilded a flashlight, and turned it on when she saw me.  She looked me up and down.  She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.  She was judging me.  I locked eyes with her, they were as brown as chocolate, but had a sparkle of gold to them.  In a way, her eyes twinkled at me- I had a feeling that this girl was someone who I could trust.  Maybe she'd be an ally, she was looking at me just like Oliver and Papa.  "What's your name?" she asked suddenly.

Then again, Oliver said not to trust the drug dealers.  Now I was confused, so I lied, "Olivia,"

"Bullshit!" the girl scoffed.  "Your real name, please, if we want to make progress here."

Gazing at the ground, I whimpered, "Elissa,"

She replied bluntly, "Well, Elissa, you look like shit.  But, from what it seems like you don't want a hospital involved."

I nodded.

"You're trying to escape somewhere, right?  You want to get on our boat?"

I nodded again, and tears welled in my eyes once more.  "I have a boarding pass," I said pleadingly, revealing a bloodstained sheet of paper I tried to keep so pristine.  The girl's face turned soft, and she looked distraught for me.  I thought I was seeing things, until she soothed, "Don't cry.  And don't listen to those assholes there, I'm getting you out of here."

"But, your father-" the first man exclaimed to the girl.

Grinning, she said, "I don't care, Tobias.  I'm gonna make this work."  And with that, she helped me up.  She lifted my arm over her shoulder, as I was still very weak in the knees, and helped me up the ramp.  "I don't think your father's gonna like this!" hollered the man behind us.  The girl stuck up her middle finger and whispered to me, "Don't listen to Tobias, he sucks up to my father at any chance he gets.  Elissa, I'm gonna take care of you.  I'm Trish."

"Trish," I echoed, voice raw.  Trish led me inside the ship, and the first thing I felt was warmth.  The temperature seemed to go up twenty degrees, and my hands and feet tingled with heat.  I saw some men cleaning their guns around a table, on comfy chairs by a fireplace.  They nodded respectfully at Trish, but looked perplexed at me.  "I'll explain later," Trish told them, ushering me down a hall and a flight of stairs.  A man serving as some sort of guard protected a set of double doors, but allowed Trish and I to enter.  After opening a series of more doors, Trish showed me what I thought was paradise.  There was a queen-sized bed, just like the one at the hotel!  It was complete with a colourful quilt and fluffy pillows.  I wanted to sleep in it right away, not caring who it belonged to, but Trish directed me into a door in the corner of the room. 

The door brought us to a bathroom.  The walls were white, the floor checkered, and the toilet and sink were sparkling clean.  Trish flicked on the lights, and I noticed that she too was sparkling clean.  She had copper coloured skin and ebony hair slicked back into a ponytail with bushy ends.  Her nose was wide, cheekbones were sharp, and her lips were luscious and painted with bright red lipstick.  Trish wore a red and black flannel tied above her midrif, with a black cropped tank-top underneath.  On her legs was a pair of skinny, black jeans.  On her feet she wore black combat boots, similar to my own (except hers were clean).  When I looked at myself, I felt utterly embarassed.  My face was peeling and chapped.  Where the Winter Soldier had cut my face, a vicious red line now stood.  Bags sagged under my red eyes, blood smeared across my face and clothes, my hair was dishevelled and practically white.  I looked like hell, I looked like garbage.  In this sterile bathroom, I felt like an outsider.  However, Trish said, "Have a shower.  There's soap and shampoo and stuff.  Take as long as you need, Elissa."

"Really?" I croaked.  Her voice sounded so gentle, so sympathetic, so unlike the harsh Hydra soldiers barking orders.  

She nodded at me and teased, "Well, who else would I be talking to?  Look, I'm gonna give you some privacy now."  And then she was gone.