Outsider

Twenty-four

I don't remember much about my sleep.  The pills I took kept away dreams and nightmares, all I felt was silence and blackness.  I do remember waking up, though.

Light filtered in from a window near the ceiling.  It shone against my blanket-covered body, offering more warmth.  Slowly, I extended my limbs, feeling every muscle at ease for the first time in weeks.  I had not had a fever for the entire night, there were no chills or sweats.  The boat was travelling among the open seas, and its slow rocking movement lulled me in and out of even more sleep.  For the first time in weeks, I felt at peace.  After stretching like a kitten, I opened my eyes.  As if on cue, Trish entered the room.  "Good morning," she said, before teasing, "Or should I say, afternoon.  Damn, you slept forever."

I replied, "Sorry-"

Trish laughed and lightly swatted my shoulder, "Who the hell cares?  Jesus, lighten up a little."  She then went to the chair and brought back a silver tray.  On the tray there was two pieces of toast, not stale, dripping with golden butter.  Beside the toast were two fried eggs, similar to ones Papa made me sometimes.  There was also fried sausage and a tall glass of orange juice.  I had not seen so much plentiful food in years; I stared at it with ravenous eyes.  "Tobias was making lunch today," Trish told me, "And you do not want to eat that shit, so I made you something quick."

Flabbergasted, I asked hesitantly, "All of this- for me?"  Hydra never gave me that much food, only enough to keep me alive during training.  And that food was stale or mouldy, disgusting and hard to swallow.  But, when I looked into Trish's golden brown eyes I saw that she actually did want me to eat the food.  I took small nibbles at first, but finished the meal in great, gulping bites.  I felt a sense of fullness in my stomach that I had not felt in so long!  And so I looked at Trish, and grinned as much as I could without disturbing my sore, gauze-wrapped cheek.

I knew Oliver said not to trust Crimson Night, not to trust anyone, but I didn't care.  Crimson Night was taking care of me, I wanted to revel in the comfortable beds and hot meals that came to me daily.

When we arrived in America, I didn't actually see many sights for the first couple of weeks.  We docked at an empty port on the outskirts of New York City, and a luxurious red sportscar was waiting for Trish, and now me.  The skies were black with few stars, buildings in the distance were merely shadows with some twinkling lights.  Feeling feverish, I rested my head against the car window and stared blankly into the darkness.  These were my first steps in freedom- Oliver should've been there with me.  Suddenly, I was bawling.  It scared the hell out of Trish, she kept asking, "What's wrong?  What's the matter?"  

I couldn't explain myself, I fumbled for words.  So Trish pulled out her pill box and offered me a green and white morsel.  The pill was quickly shoved into my mouth by my shaking hands, and I let dizziness and fatigue overwhelm me.

Trish did tell me that I walked into her apartment, and she made a bed for me on the couch.  I don't remember any of that.  The next thing I knew, I was awake in a dimly lit room, much more spacious and colourful than any other room I had ever seen.  I faintly remembered the gala Oliver and I attended, and the brilliant ballgowns the woman there wore; that was how colourful this room was.  Then, I saw Trish stagger out of her room, wearing a fluffy white robe with matching slippers over top of her pajamas.  This time, I said, "Good morning,"  It felt weird to address someone like that, usually I'd say nothing to the Hydra soldiers.  However, I wasn't with Hydra and Trish was smiling at me.  "Hey, Elissa,"

I had breakfast.  This time it was cereal, which I never had before, but I loved.  Trish then introduced me to a television.  She had a huge, shining black one directly across from the couch.  She had a remote which allowed access to multiple channels, so I could watch whatever I wanted.  Instantly, I was hooked.  There were so many things going on the world, and I could watch them all!  Politics in America, hockey games, cooking, shows where people pick out different wedding gowns- Trish and I just "surfed the channels," as she called it, the entire day.  "I take it you've never seen a TV before," Trish stated to me, an amused grin across her lips.  

"It's beautiful,"

Trish just laughed.

These next few weeks were when Trish healed me.  Not just physically, but mentally.  I was given comfort, attention, and the freedom to choose.  For so long I was oppressed, I had no voice in Hydra, but here- 

I never wanted to leave.  

Every time a dark thought entered my mind, Trish would offer me the pills.  Soon I began to crave them, every night I would take one.  The dizziness symptom passed, but every time the pills would cure the pain from my scars and my nightmares, even if it was only for a few hours.  I gained weight, colour returned to my cheeks and lips, and stitches were removed from my cheek and chest.  When I stared at the healthy-looking girl in the bathroom mirror, with full and rosy pink cheeks, and hair neatly in a bun, I felt unrecognizable.  

That very same evening Trish had gone on an outing, but I knew how to get the TV working.  I planned to watch television for a few hours, and then go to sleep.  However, when I emerged from the bathroom I saw a cardboard box on the couch.  It was fairly large, its belongings bursting at the seams.  When I opened it, I saw two familiar oversized trench coats.  One was mine, the other Oliver's.  The blood where he got shot was dry, but still a brilliant red.  I lifted the coat to my face, just to smell Oliver.  A tear slid down my scarred cheek, and I wrapped the coat around me.  I cast my trench coat aside- to me it was still Hydra dirt.  

At the bottom of the box, I saw two gleaming pieces of metal.  I pulled out one, the silver bullet that the Winter Soldier shot me with.  The other was my Hydra knife, with the Hydra symbol on its hilt.  My boarding pass was also present.  But, attached to the knife was a small piece of paper, reading:

I found these on the ship.  Do what you want with them.
-T

And so I took Oliver's trench coat, and folded it neatly back in the box.  Within the trench coat's pocket was the bloodied boarding pass.  Glancing at my knife, I hatched a crazy idea.  I was finally free from Hydra, and this would prove it.  With the knife's sharp blade, I hacked my trench coat, mauling the cloth into shreds.  Slowly, the coarse material became thin, like pieces of paper, and I was surrounded by a pile of rags.  I laughed and cried at the same time, looking at the mess I had created.  Then, in my hands I gathered the maimed remains of the coat, and walked towards the window.  I cranked open the glass, and felt a bitter breeze envelop the room.  

And over the edge went my Hydra coat, the pieces scattering amongst the wind.

I smiled.