Today, she would be leaving for Canada and she felt nothing. A part of her was thankful that soon she would be living away from a big city, a place where the air smelled fresh and clean. Everyone she met at the halfway house was nice and understanding but she hated the joint meals and talks with people she did not even know and it didn’t matter that they all seemed to be going through the same thing.
She found herself always looking over her shoulder, not necessarily afraid but almost paranoid that she was being watched and any second someone would jump out with a set of tranquilizer guns proclaiming the joke was on her. It never happened.
She found herself surrounded by people and yet she was alone. She was a stranger to herself.
When she gazed into the mirror, she did not recognize the reflection. Whose chocolate brown eyes stared back at her in question?
It was an odd thing suddenly being forced to accept her reflection, it was almost an out of body experience because up until she was faced with the mirror she had felt like she was just floating and now she realized she had a body that took up space, that housed the nothingness she felt on the inside. She was no longer nothing but now a shell.
Long waves of auburn hair flowed down her body naturally. The white stripe at the front did not appear to be dyed; another question she knew that if asked would be unanswered as to why.
Since the mirror was all that she had to occupy herself with as she waited for the bus she took the time to feel a bit narcissistic. Soft hands running over her curvy hips as she pulled her top up showing off a toned and muscled stomach with a slim waist, the skin was no paler then that of her arms and legs. She was all pale. The doctor had hypothesized it was because for a long time she had had no control over her skin and had been covered. A little part of her was glad she couldn’t remember that part of her life. Trapped like a mummy was not something she wanted to relive after being trapped in a frozen pod for almost thirty years.
Her legs and arms were just as toned as the rest of her, slim but firm muscles adorned her limbs. She looked small but she could feel the strength within her. Arching her back she glanced at the curve of her breasts realizing she had nothing to complain about as self-centered as it was to think. She supposed the con would be she could never go with out a bra.
The skin on her face was just as pale, delicate and smooth as the rest of her. Full red lips stood out as much as her large brown eyes that blended well with her skin and dark hair. She tried to recognize the person she was looking at but it was hard, but each day since she was starting to feel more comfortable as though sub consciously she was remembering things. Still though, she found herself objecting to the name that they had given her, she did not feel like a Sam. She felt like something else all together.
The plain phone by the bed rang silently, the green light blinking instead, telling her the bus had arrived. Slowly she grabbed one small bag that somehow carried her whole life in it and headed down. She hoped it wasn’t going to be a competition as to who had the most luggage, who was the most important, but she had a feeling she’d never put much stock in such things, that she’d learned to live with the small things she had. Little thoughts like this made her hope that she had been a good person, that she was a good person.
She wasn’t sure that she was going to fall so easily into step with what was ahead of her; a small town life where she didn’t know anybody, where she had no story, no history. She had a feeling she was going to be the rogue of the town already.