The pouring fountains let out the floods into the sink as they arrived at the surface, and one by one they fluttered into the base. As they continued to rise, the one thing Erwyna Torres could think about was the last woman to sleep in that bed just outside the bathroom. She thought her life would last for another decade, at the very least. She thought that her last day on her own two feet would be just like every other day.
It was her last day away from work before she went back to the torture chambers, so she thought she could just enjoy her day; stay in bed until noon, have a quaint breakfast with her daughter's framed photograph in the background, and have a nice, hot shower before going out to the Gardens of Babylon.
But as Erwyna's tear ducts stopped pouring acid rain, she could no longer feel what her mother must have felt; alone and afraid. Now, she was set to go on an excursion of yes, being afraid, but not being alone anymore. She'd have seven fresh faces in front of her, all questioning her every move as if she were Bonnie with nobody to call Clyde. As she wiped the sink of all remnants of her bathroom breakdown, she couldn't help but wonder what her mother's last thought was, or what her last word was. Now, these were both things she had thought about on repeat for the last eleven months without stop, but she still wanted an answer. She wanted to know if her mother thought she was going to die, or if she just thought that somebody would help, though Erwyna realized early on that neither answer to this question would make her feel better. She knew better than to go down this loophole, but she couldn't help herself from imagining the inevitable.
The last of the liquid acid was removed from the sink while Erwyna scrubbed it spotless, it's off-white tone finally showing it's face again─ not that it hadn't been showing its face, but Erwyna couldn't stand the thought of her mother's pristine porcelain being stained with any color other than that frosty white.
With the linoleum flooring turning into a maroon-tinted tapestry as she placed one foot in front of the other, she started to make it to the front door; the door that would decide her destiny.. then the automobile that would decide her destiny, then the stop sign, then the stop light, and then the dreadfully fateful, yet palatial edifice. With her doors marked in a substantial emblem that would come to define Erwyna's entire being, she hesitantly pushed them open as she stepped inside with her life forever changed.
As she approached the elevator, she couldn't help but wonder what this journey would entail. Sure, she had been in many different departments of the FBI in the last year, but this was her first time going into a particular one more than once. Even before she was poached for JTF-12, she had already worked in a select few departments but she only ever visited all of them once. This time was different. This time, she had succeeded in an interview.. this never happened with any of the other bureaus, the Unit Chiefs always just scrutinized her life story in the form of a file and decided from there if she would be a good fit.
While Erwyna admits that the interview was only a couple of minutes long- maybe four at the most, she still held on to the fact that it would be a step in the right direction. While the elevator began to shut, a loud voice rang from the other side of the parking lot.
"Keep it open!" The voice rang as Erwyna instinctually put her hand against the silver doors, waiting for the mystery man. Although his voice sounded familiar to Erwyna, she couldn't quite put her finger on whose it was.
However, as he approached the elevator and came into view, she immediately knew who the dominative voice belonged to; none other than her new boss, Aaron Hotchner. As he stepped through the narrow passage to get inside, he had a minuscule smile on his naturally disgruntled face as he spoke, "Thank you," and left it as small as that.
The elevator excursion was particularly tedious as they rode up side by side, yet worlds apart. Crickets chirped in the enclosure until they reached floor seven, when the man Erwyna would come to know as Hotch spoke up.
YOU ARE READING
Rosemary
Fanfiction"So tell me why my gods look like you, and tell me why it's wrong." - The thirty-one-year-old half-sister of the newly acquired Seattle Grace surgeon Callie Torres, has been put through hell and back throughout her life. Not once did she get the cha...
