Sorry about the long wait but I've been crazy busy and weirdly struggling with writer's block. Please, please, please bear with me! PLease Fav/Follow/Review and stay frosty you guys!

-Lullaby for a Stormy Night

Serena

I was back in the states again, and Manhattan was close enough . It wasn't hard to get from southern Quebec into New York. A bus had taken me to the border. It had been perhaps the most uncomfortable mode of transportation out there, but it had done its job. Security let me through with no trouble. Elizabeth Lanza was the name printed on the passport. The I.D. and New York State driver's license both had the same name. Elizabeth Lanza… it had been my birth mother's maiden name.

I didn't know what Krista was thinking when she chose it, but now I was living the life of a dead woman.

Elizabeth Lanza then dropped $8,000 on only three things: two plastic bags from the nearest Wal-Mart and a red Honda motorcycle from a pre used lot. Neither place asked any questions when I paid all in cash. I didn't actually get an odd reaction until I arrived at the Lake Placid Lodge and was willing to pay over a thousand dollars in cash to secure the Whiteface suite on the top floor. The lady behind the desk looked me over strangely and I must have been a sight. Two days of nonstop travelling, meaning no time to shower or change holding only two Wal-Mart bags and a drawstring one. If I didn't have the money, I would have been turned away in a heartbeat.

But I was here now, up in the "cabin in the woods" inspired suite. It was a gorgeous room, spacious bathroom, hand-carved king bed facing a stone fireplace, and a private covered balcony. That's where I was now, seated on the cream colored bed built out there, reviewing what I had just done.

The second I entered the room I locked the door and pushed the sofa from the middle of the large room right in front of it, barricading the room. My bags were thrown onto the autumn colored bed spread. I quickly undressed from the ratty series of jackets I had been wearing and slipped off the mud covered jeans. I stood for just a moment in only a wife beater and boy shorts. I only had so much time.

There were a few things that needed to get done first thing. I dug around in the bags for what I needed right away. Scissors, razor, hair dye… that was it. My hands full, I went for the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the giant porcelain tub, I tore open the box. Turning it over, two bottles tumbled into my hand. I unscrewed both tops and poured the activator into the other. For about a minute, I shook the mixture till I felt it was ready.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered stepping back from the tub. I leaned my head over and squeezed the contents over my scalp and through my hair. This sucked. The smell burnt my noised and the dye got everywhere. I didn't have time to be doing this properly. The goop covered my hands as I was forced to use them to cover all of my hair as evenly as possible. Not like there was a lot to even work with. It had hardly grown since… well since. I stopped moving my hands and sighed. I had uprooted so many lives and for what? Why did I decide to throw everything away for…

For him. It was stupid, but I thought about him often. He was the only reason I was going back and I didn't know why. Going back wasn't just a risk for me, but for him too. As far as I knew if I walked into his home, I would be killed upon sight. So why was I so willing? "I hope you've just forgotten about me," I said to the drain. But that wouldn't be true. You didn't just forget someone who had come into your life like I had. I wasn't trying to think highly of myself, it was just the truth. Maybe, just maybe, if I saw Raphael once more and knew he was okay, I could move on with what my new life could offer me.

I could hope anyway.

With the dye in, I stood and got ready for vitally important. I reached for the long counter and picked up the razor. Five overlapping blades stared me down as I sat again on the edge of the tub. The brass handles turned releasing warm water. I scooped water and splashed it against my legs before letting it run over the razor. The first stroke ran from my ankle to just below my knee. I gasped in bliss. The simplest of pleasures: shaving your legs.

I had gone nearly a month without. This was pure bliss. Out of everything that had happened to me, de-furring my legs seemed to purge something more from my body. I felt so shallow sitting there with dye in my hair, swishing my razor in the water. In a luxury hotel room for God sakes! I wasn't on a vacation with my rich mother and father, I was hoping to break free from a life of being hunted. How can I possibly be enjoying myself?

I had finished my right leg, and moved on to its partner. Each swipe made me a little more comfortable and even more miserable. The blades came to a stop halfway up my thigh. There, a straight scar, fresher than the others. I let my fingertips trace it. My eyes shut as the image of an arrow crossed my mind, me breaking off one end and pulling the other all the way through. Stitching it roughly with a needle and thread after pouring half a bottle of vodka over it. It will never fully heal. After all the times I had been hurt or beaten and this would be my permanent injury.

What if I had just stayed in that orphanage. You would be dead, that's what. My greatest question, but I knew the answer. I was too weak before, I still could be. The multiple straight lines on my wrists and even my hips were strong enough evidence. Pain erased faces, that I learned well.

"Enough of that. Don't pity yourself, you don't deserve it." I finished shaving before leaving the water running. The tub filled with the drain plug put in place as I removed my remaining clothes. I still had maybe15 minutes before I needed to wash my hair. I sunk into the steamy water. Leaning back, I winced at the sudden heat, but the water felt perfect. I scrubbed myself gently, but let the water do most of the work for me. I did okay keeping myself clean on the road, but I hadn't had anything quite like this. I could have sat there all evening, but time wasn't one my side. My feet pulled in, and I pushed myself up. I unplugged the drain and waited for the water level to fall. In the meantime, I made the mistake of glancing sideways.

My gaze connected with a stranger. Her hair was too short and covered in something bluish. The face below her messy hairline was sharper than it should have been. Dingy eyes were slightly sunken in with heavy bags beneath. Her chin shadowed a neck that lead to collarbones way more prominent than usual. The same weight loss that let her count all of her ribs did this to her. I couldn't recognize the woman I stared at without her curves and thick muscle. I looked truly pathetic and sickly. My tattoo wasn't even the same with how off colored my skin had become.

"Where do I go from here," I whispered. The last few months I filled the silence around me with all these questions. What else could I do? No one else would ask them. It was up to me now.

The tub stayed behind as I wandered to the walk-in shower. I turned the handle and began rubbing out the dye into the stream of water that felt like bullets. When the dye was out and down the drain, my hands planted themselves into the wall. I was waiting for something. Courage, to get out and face my reflection. I didn't want to see her anymore. All who looked back at me was Elizabeth Lanza and didn't know if I had the will to be her anymore.

But that wasn't my choice anymore. I had an oath to keep, no matter what it took. The water turned off. Damp feet padded across the heated tile floor. I paused in front of the mirror again. Scissors raised in my grip. The snap seemed to echo as I cut away any possible growth I may have had. Platinum blonde tufts fell to the floor as I continued chopping away.

I sat on the balcony overlooking the lake. The remaining hair was nearly dry as I fondled my new boy cut with diagonal bangs. The light color worked well against my Italian coloring and little streaks of my original coloring fought through. I was comfortable in a fresh charcoal v-neck shirt and dark washed jeans. A new hoodie and leather jacket sat in the bags with the rest of the items that would finish my transformation.

I sighed, reminding myself that I needed to leave early tomorrow and the sun was touching the Earth in the distance. I would sleep well tonight, eat well in the morning, and by the next evening I would be in the center of Manhattan.

In two days, I would be with old friends again, which nearly guaranteed that I would be dead.