The Unseen Reflection {A Gaara Fanfiction}

Prologue

I'm here again.
I'm at the swing set, rocking back and forth slowly even though I wasn't even kicking the swing to move at a certain pace, my eyes locked down to the ground, whenever I'm here I would just float, not being able to know anything and only able to catch the dream as a slight fluke of things, but this, this is not a dream.

Sand was beneath my feet, I looked down as I slowly buried my feet in the tingling feeling of it.

It was always the same way, the same time, the same thing, this is like a recording played back over and over like a bad scratched CD playing itself over and over.

Suddenly, I could feel a hand on my shoulder, it was always him, his hand was always the one on my shoulder, I couldn't hear whatever it was he was saying since this vision of mine was always muted.

But then this boy smiled, he took my hand in his as I slowly rose up after dusting some of the sand of my feet, and ran quickly with this boy.

I didn't know him, I really didn't, not even a single memory of who he was, but then, it's something about him that flicks a switch inside me, that red hair and sea foam colored eyes.

I wanted to scream out and ask him, but I felt paralyzed as if I am living out someone else's memory.

This dream, this vision, it always haunt me everytime, it comes back to me in different versions, but it was always there, by the swing set and I couldn't help but to feel a strange feeling towards this boy.

And then the boy dragged me to a sand box and somehow made me sit next to him, I couldn't form out the words but I could feel myself smiling, and then things started to shape out of the sand, like my favorite animal, and everything.

I wouldn't say that this dream is a bad dream, somehow whenever I'm here, I felt relaxed and happy. Maybe it was just a fluke, or a mistake, but I never talked about this to anyone, all they know is that I have frequent nightmares.

The boy then smiled, as he formed some words and squinted his raccoon-like eyes, I couldn't manage to feel myself saying anything, but then he looked at me deeply and said something, and right there in that moment, I felt something.

And then this vision always ends after wards with the same way as I was being dragged out into the darkness, and away from the boy, away from the playground, and it would always end up with me flying down and hitting something hard beneath my back.

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I woke up in a jolt, panting and breathing heavily, as I looked around the room, thinking that I am still here which means nothing bad happened. The walls are still made of gray metal and the floor is still as cold as it was, my small white bed is still on the corner.

The room is empty, else than a small chair in front of the bed and of course, my own bed, it didn't take long for me to find my own breath and calmed down.

I opened my palm and rubbed my other hand against it, feeling the coldness as in the dream it was warm from the other boy's hand.

My mind would always try to recall whatever it was happening, but none would ever come back to me. At least, nothing important really.

I clutched the blanket higher to my shoulder as I felt a chilly breeze. It has always been this way, everything I could ever remember was being here, even since I was small, this familiar metal walls and the cold floor, the white sheets on the bed sprawled out nicely, and myself.

I could not remember anything, just this was the way it has always been. Locked up here and when I go out, it's to eat, or bathe, or to fulfill a mission.

It was never hard for me to take orders from the people who gave me them, I just seemed to enjoy it and follow it, when I go out, I finish my mission, undetected is a priority of mine, not that it was necessary, I could be detected and I would still stay alive, but still, some people who fight me wouldn't even stay alive long enough to tell others about me, which made me go back to being undetected.

Before missions they give me orders, files, and names, but never pictures. Just descriptions, or titles or even jobs and degrees, something like so. I'm not an assassin, they never said I was, I couldn't ask the authorities, I just follow them.

I was never the one to wear a uniform while the others could, their robes a shade of red and black, never understood it but yet, here I am trying to understand.

I want to leave but whenever I ask too many questions I would always be brought back to the same darkness as before, like a dreamless sleep, when I wake up things are much more clear than before.

I have killed many times and yet it is what I live for, what I do, and it is hard, living like this since all I could remember.

There is one small window near my bed, it was always closed with a curtain, but once I love to open it to see the change of colors, sometimes it would be white full of snow, and then it would change to pure green, and so on with the color difference.

But the thought of looking outside horrifies me, it scares me to the fact that maybe the world changed whenever I opened the curtains, or the colors would be a different shade than any of the previous ones.

But whenever I hear the sound of thunder or the whipping sound of wind, I open the small window's curtain slowly, and to look outside, to look from inside to out.

The storm calms me, it is like a raged soul with a heart of sorrow, it bends wood and breaks metal, but in the end it would always be as peaceful as dawn.

Life doesn't exist for me, I just simply exist.

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A/N: Had a guess of the girl's background yet and who she is working for?
I'm keeping this mysterious and secretive.