I planned this story to fill the Mirror's Edge category that I requested. It's planned to be a three-chapter spontaneous write, so don't expect too much content. I thought that the storyline of Mirror's Edge was hampered greatly by the shortness of the game, and that it was very disjointed. I don't plan to do any big stories to cover that though, because really, the mystique of Faith's character and the unnerving mysteriousness of the city and its sterility is what gives the game its unique atmosphere. If anything, I have actually tried to imitate the style of Mirror's Edge by a story. Enough of my banter. Let's get on with the show.

Faith

Faith woke up to find herself lying on a white bed, completely naked. For a second she was confused, but the memories of the previous night came back to her quickly. She was at her new place, in hiding as Public Enemy #1, in a room that had a pretty good view of the city below. Apparently an old lady was supposed to live here, but November had assured her that it was merely a facade they were using to fool the landlady.

She looked at the table next to the bed. On it was her makeup kit, with the pale makeup she used to hide her tattoos when she absolutely needed to go out, which was a rare occasion, seeing that Kate stopped by every week and a half to give her supplies from the underground. But it was difficult for a girl who had been running all her life, who loved the rush of the wind in her hair and the momentary feel of flying, to stay cooped up in an apartment until things got better, and by personal experience things never got better.

Last night she had been in a rather frivolous mood, using the makeup kit November gave her to get down to a rather dark bar. She might have come in by herself, but she came out with another man.

Faith sat up, holding the sheets up to her. She tried to summon the memories of what exactly had happened last night. Well, it was hot and sweaty. And there was lots of jerking and thrusting around. It felt sort of tingly, and it felt a little numb at the end, but it wasn't exactly the passionate scene you'd see in a James Bond movie or whatever. There must have been some kissing involved, because her mouth tasted a little like vodka.

Here I am, she thought, hunted all over in this city, and I find that sex is overrated. Real great. Her thoughts turned to other things…

Shit.

She rewound and replayed her memories of the past night, but nowhere in there did she remember birth control in any shape, size, or form being used.

Shit, shit, shit!

She had been expecting that this exile in a city she didn't belong in would be temporary, but now it had a very high chance of being an extended stay. Faith got out of bed, walking to the shower. Unlike her usual cold shower though, this time she waited for the water to start steaming before she entered. It was her first hot shower in a long time.

The steam and the warm jets of water felt very good on her skin. It tickled her slightly, and the warmth felt like it permeated every fiber of her being. She soaped herself down, as was her custom, then started to wash out her hair. It was only in the shower that nothing was on her mind; none of the horrors of the deaths or the betrayals she had seen or experienced could bother her. It was a feeling that she was slightly alien to; not even when she was running could she be free, for there was danger with every step, leap, and climb.

When she finally stepped out of the shower, Faith felt like a new woman. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel dirty. She didn't feel guilty for everything that had happened in her life, where none of it was really her fault anyway. She felt like…herself again. She dressed, looking at herself in the mirror and admiring the tattoos under her eye and on her arm.

A knock on the door jolted her out of her mirror gazing. Kate was here, and she brought all of the troubles of the world back again.

I just hope that I won't be staying here any longer, thought Faith before she opened the door to her only lifeline.

Again, it's really a spontaneous write, so I was influenced by the stream of consciousness narrative mode. Modernism somehow gets me again. I suppose it will have to be a necessary evil for a story in modern times.