The Academy

~Chapter Three~

The car traveled down an underground tunnel. I had absolutely no idea where we were, except for the fact that I was being taken to the Witness Protection Program headquarters underneath the streets of Atlanta, Georgia.

The car began to slow down, as the tunnel's downward slope flattened out. Eventually, the car came to a complete stop, and both men who had taken me here rose from the front seat. Suddenly, a large door opened, and a bright, white light shown through the tunnel. A group of five people filed out from the doors and surrounded the car. Each had the same uniform on as the ones who had brought me here. One man opened my car door.

"Madame, if you would." The man gestured for me to get out of the car. I cautiously crawled out of the back seat. The man offered a hand to help me out of the car. I took it, and the man gently pulled me out. As I stepped onto the ground, the same men, who had taken me from my home, ushered me toward the large door.

We walked toward the door, the other uniformed men surrounding us. The second I walked through it, the once-blinding light evened out into a large, colorful room with short walls separating it into smaller spaces. The walls formed square-shaped, cubical-like rooms. The part front wall of each room, however, was missing. You could see right in.

There were people everywhere. Men dressed in the same beige uniforms walked in between the walls, while men, women, and some children stood inside the walls. Inside the walls were salon chairs, mirrors, cabinets, tables, and wardrobes. Some people stood at mirrors in different styles of clothing. Some people were having a lot of makeup put on their faces. Some people sat in the salon chairs, as women in black dresses, cut away at their hair.

"Ms. Kensington, this way please," a man said. The men lead me toward a walled room. Was I going to have to go through some of the things other people were doing, too? Questions began to roll through my brain.

As I walked into the walled room, I looked around. The walls were painted different shades of red and orange. The wardrobe sat in the right corner of the back wall. A salon chair and mirror with a silver table coming out of it stood on the wall to the right of the entrance. I gulped as I noticed what was on the table: a comb, clips, spray bottle, and the worst thing of all-a pair of scissors-laid on the the table.

"Have a seat in the chair, please. The stylist will be with you in a few minutes," the Italian man said. I glanced over at him, then sat down in the salon chair. The uniformed men left the room.

I sat alone in the room. Millions of thoughts fluttered through my mind. I wondered where I was going to go after this. I wondered what was going to happen to me here. Most of all, though, I wondered if I was ever going to see my family again. Was that the last time I would ever see Mom? Dad? Garrett?

At that moment, a curly headed woman, who looked to be about forty or so, walked into the room. She walked straight toward me.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Kensington," the woman greeted me with a Polish accent. "My name is Franka, and I will be your stylist today." Franka extended her hand toward me. I took it and shook it feebly. I could feel my hands shaking with nervousness.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I will be doing with you today," Franka stated.

"Y-yes," I answered timidly.

"Well, I'm sure you saw the other protected witnesses, when you walked in, correct?" I nodded. "Good. That's what I will be doing with you today."

My heart automatically started to beat faster. I wasn't that nervous to have makeup put on or to have a different style of clothing put on me, but I was absolutely terrified of having my hair cut. I hadn't cut it in over nine years. When I was ten years old, I wore my hair in a short bob. Now, it was halfway down my thighs.

"We're going to start with some permanent makeup to make your face and skin look different. Don't worry, though. It will only last for about a year at a time," Franka informed me. "Then, after that, we will move on to a new wardrobe. We will end with a haircut and color." I nodded once more, not wanting to ponder the thought of a haircut.

Franka trotted out of the room. Seconds later, she scurried back in, this time, pushing a small cart. The cart held several different containers, cups, and bottles, along with an abundance of makeup brushes, all differing in size. Franka began to mix a few gels and creams together.

"Ok, first we will start by darkening your skin color. I will need you to undress for me. Leave your bra and panties on," she said. I quickly glanced down at my pale skin. Without word, I stood up and began to undress myself. Once I was naked, except for my bra and underwear, I looked at Franka as if to ask, "What now?". Franka grasped a bottle from the edge of the cart and began to shake it.

"Please, close you eyes, hold out your arms, spread your legs apart, and remain still," she commanded. I obeyed her and did as I was told. With my eyes squeezed shut, I held my breath as I heard Franka spray whatever the bottle contained into the air.

"Stay still, Ms. Kensington," she said. "This will only take a minute."