•The Assassin Series•
"And through all the pain you caused, I still look at you as if you painted the sky." ~K.R
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Anastasia Romano is very upbeat and happy girl despite everything she has been through.
She is a lot like her mother, Alan...
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Chapter Seven
"You will never leave this place, Tesoro . . ." My head whips from side to side but I can't see him; I'm not sure if that is a good thing, or a bad thing. "Don't fight."
The noise emits right next to me but when I look, no one is there. It is only pitch black darkness, the mysterious abyss leaving my chest to wheeze with panic.
"No one will come for you."
"You're worthless."
"Just give up."
"Give into me."
My body quivers as I tap my finger against the concrete floor, counting the taps. One, two, three—One, two, three—One, two, three—
All noise leaves, only the piercing silence keeping me company. The ringing in my ear won't leave and only dulls when I look in front of me.
"No . . ." The whisper comes out as a silent croak and I place my hand at the base of my throat.
A mirror, cracked and tattered, lie in front of me. It is slightly tilted and the gold rim still finds a way to glisten inside the dark, cold, wet cell. My chest heaves. Walls close in on my lungs, squeezing and constricting as I stare at myself in front of the mirror.
I shuffle onto my knees and crawl over towards it, my chains rattling along the way. A small rip reveals itself on my white shirt and I look at it for a moment, entranced. Goosebumps rise to my skin as I kneel in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.
My sunken, dim eyes. The hollow contour of my cheeks. Cracks that line the crevices of my lips. Black hair framing my face messily.
I'm a mess.
Who is she?
She's lost.
Am I me?
No.
"No . . ." I whisper once again, this time the croak presents itself in a more humanly manner. "No, no, no."
Suddenly, I find myself stumbling back over towards the wall, panic consuming my entire existence. This isn't me. This doesn't feel right. Is that even me? No—No it's not.
Days tick by of me staring at the girl in the mirror. Food comes, spoils, and is taken away from me but I continue to stare at her. I feel like I am going insane.
It starts off with slow taps. My skull leans towards and away from the concrete wall behind me. Then, it turns into knocks. My vision blurs. Bangs. Blood trickles down my neck and I am left with nothing but the fading vision of the girl in the mirror, forever lost but never forgotten.
