Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who sent in their reviews.
Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Thanks again! Oh yes and
the chapter title doesn't belong to me its actually a book by
Lois Dunkin or however you spell her name.
Chapter 15 - Stranger With my Face
Meredith remembered.
She saw the path in the woods, long and hard in front of her. Her running shoes hit the ground sending soft puffs of dirt and soil floating into nothing. She looked behind her, making sure she was alone. She thrust herself behind a tree, her tiny pitiful sever-year-old lungs filled with nothing but grime. She coughed a little, her whole body weighing ten times more then it had when she had started running.
But then she was continuing, from what she had no idea.
But there was that gut wrenching feeling in her stomach, the pounding of her heart, the hairs on the back up her neck standing on end, the chills running up her spine. Was she running from a fear?
Or just the unknown?
As the young blond haired girl ran she heard it, the breathing from someone else, the footsteps. She turned, her perfect face catching the ray of sunlight as they fell from the heavens. She walked into a thicket, making less noise then she had. The woods behind her house was big, but by the age of six she could navigate herself almost professionally through them. She pressed her back against a tree and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and surely. She turned her back on the tree and walked into the clearing behind her, the rays on sunlight streaming through the trees, the leaves on the ground making a soft crunching noise under her shoes. She looked back behind her, making sure no one could see her. She stood in the centre of the trees and knelt down on her knees, the wet ground soaking through her light pants.
She closed her eyes, the wind rustling the leaves a little. She listened for any other sounds, the sounds of her own breathing, the sounds of the leaves break and fall to the ground, the sounds of her own silent tears from squeezing her eyes tightly. Now she knew, she had known all along what she had been running from. The little girl listened to the voices she could hear, the voices only she could hear, the voices that surrounded her in hate and death. She felt the cold prickle at her bare skin, the voices echoing around her once more. She felt the wind pick up, the leaves start to fly through the air. The speed of the wind forced the girl onto her feet, her hair whipping through the gale force winds. She knew not to be afraid, and she knew not to cry. She felt the cold around her, wrapping her in a freezing blanket. She clenched her teeth. She said clear as day, and realised in a midst of all the wind she had opened her eyes. She looked at the ground, the ground far beneath her. She was floating about a foot or so off the ground. She had no traction in the air, that was true, but the fact remained that she was off the ground, and the wind was keeping her in the air.
Meredith snapped awake. She could hear water driping from the ceiling. Her head ached and a steady pain had errupted from her head. But the water sounds were gone. She pushed herself off the ground, her body a wreck of shivers and chattering and cold sweat. She felt something cold under her fingertips, colder then the tiles she was on. She picked it up, the round cylinder of a flashlight under her fingers. She flicked it on, the light in whatever type of room she was in was dimmed and almost ptich black. She flicked it on. It was one of the torch lights her parents used. She shone it around a little. The room was big. She could hear echoes from across the room. Thinking quickly she ran to a wall and tried to find something to hide behind.
The lights burst on. Meredith closed her eyes, finding herself leaning against a large and vast glass tube. She flicked the flashlight off, trying to adjust her eyes to the bright light. She pressed herself against the glass, her heart pounding, her not wanting to be found. She could hear voices and footsteps into the room.
"Number seven's been having some problems." She heard a male voice say and the footsteps being directed towards a undisclosed location on the opposite end of the room. She felt her heart pound. She kept listening. "She doesn't fall asleep at night. We cleaned her tank twice yesterday."
"Give her some sedatives." She knew that voice. She looked througher memory, the voice somewhere inside she just didn't know where. She heard it, a faint and distant memory. Yes, he was the man on the phone, the man who had promised her answers.
"Yes sir." The other man walked off, but she didn't hear the other set of footsteps, so she remained completely silent. She turned around, thinking that looking was better then being surprised.
So she turned, the contents of the glass container becoming known to her. She widened her eyes, the visage in front of her hitting her in the chest, directly in the heart, she dropped the flashlight, the echoes trailing across the room. She walked back, her mouth opening to scream out.
For staring back at her from within the tube was her own face.
Chapter 15 - Stranger With my Face
Meredith remembered.
She saw the path in the woods, long and hard in front of her. Her running shoes hit the ground sending soft puffs of dirt and soil floating into nothing. She looked behind her, making sure she was alone. She thrust herself behind a tree, her tiny pitiful sever-year-old lungs filled with nothing but grime. She coughed a little, her whole body weighing ten times more then it had when she had started running.
But then she was continuing, from what she had no idea.
But there was that gut wrenching feeling in her stomach, the pounding of her heart, the hairs on the back up her neck standing on end, the chills running up her spine. Was she running from a fear?
Or just the unknown?
As the young blond haired girl ran she heard it, the breathing from someone else, the footsteps. She turned, her perfect face catching the ray of sunlight as they fell from the heavens. She walked into a thicket, making less noise then she had. The woods behind her house was big, but by the age of six she could navigate herself almost professionally through them. She pressed her back against a tree and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and surely. She turned her back on the tree and walked into the clearing behind her, the rays on sunlight streaming through the trees, the leaves on the ground making a soft crunching noise under her shoes. She looked back behind her, making sure no one could see her. She stood in the centre of the trees and knelt down on her knees, the wet ground soaking through her light pants.
She closed her eyes, the wind rustling the leaves a little. She listened for any other sounds, the sounds of her own breathing, the sounds of the leaves break and fall to the ground, the sounds of her own silent tears from squeezing her eyes tightly. Now she knew, she had known all along what she had been running from. The little girl listened to the voices she could hear, the voices only she could hear, the voices that surrounded her in hate and death. She felt the cold prickle at her bare skin, the voices echoing around her once more. She felt the wind pick up, the leaves start to fly through the air. The speed of the wind forced the girl onto her feet, her hair whipping through the gale force winds. She knew not to be afraid, and she knew not to cry. She felt the cold around her, wrapping her in a freezing blanket. She clenched her teeth. She said clear as day, and realised in a midst of all the wind she had opened her eyes. She looked at the ground, the ground far beneath her. She was floating about a foot or so off the ground. She had no traction in the air, that was true, but the fact remained that she was off the ground, and the wind was keeping her in the air.
Meredith snapped awake. She could hear water driping from the ceiling. Her head ached and a steady pain had errupted from her head. But the water sounds were gone. She pushed herself off the ground, her body a wreck of shivers and chattering and cold sweat. She felt something cold under her fingertips, colder then the tiles she was on. She picked it up, the round cylinder of a flashlight under her fingers. She flicked it on, the light in whatever type of room she was in was dimmed and almost ptich black. She flicked it on. It was one of the torch lights her parents used. She shone it around a little. The room was big. She could hear echoes from across the room. Thinking quickly she ran to a wall and tried to find something to hide behind.
The lights burst on. Meredith closed her eyes, finding herself leaning against a large and vast glass tube. She flicked the flashlight off, trying to adjust her eyes to the bright light. She pressed herself against the glass, her heart pounding, her not wanting to be found. She could hear voices and footsteps into the room.
"Number seven's been having some problems." She heard a male voice say and the footsteps being directed towards a undisclosed location on the opposite end of the room. She felt her heart pound. She kept listening. "She doesn't fall asleep at night. We cleaned her tank twice yesterday."
"Give her some sedatives." She knew that voice. She looked througher memory, the voice somewhere inside she just didn't know where. She heard it, a faint and distant memory. Yes, he was the man on the phone, the man who had promised her answers.
"Yes sir." The other man walked off, but she didn't hear the other set of footsteps, so she remained completely silent. She turned around, thinking that looking was better then being surprised.
So she turned, the contents of the glass container becoming known to her. She widened her eyes, the visage in front of her hitting her in the chest, directly in the heart, she dropped the flashlight, the echoes trailing across the room. She walked back, her mouth opening to scream out.
For staring back at her from within the tube was her own face.