Walker Killing, Man Stealing Teen

0.5

I hadn't seen a bathroom in so long. I hadn't seen my own reflection in months.

I stare in the mirror, mesmerised. I had grown taller and my face had thinned out.

My hair seems longer and thicker and hangs straight other than the damp curls glued damply around my neck from perspiration.

The bags under my eyes are deep blue. My lips are chapped and lacking colour and fading finger print bruises cover my body.

The light that once sparked in my eyes has been replaced with a deep brown sadness. I start to cry.

Tears silently creep down my cheeks and leave clean lines down my face as they wash away the grime.

With sore eyes and a running nose I turn the heat on in the shower and stand under the water. It feels amazing and uncomfortable at the same time. The wetness on my face from my tears is replaced with the too hot water from the shower.

I didn't shower for long though. Standing made my body ache and I didn't enjoy feeling naked and vulnerable. I turn off the water. Unsteadily, I climb out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body. The material is thin and rough but think I wouldn't like the feel of something soft and fluffy.

I don't dry myself properly and instead drop the towel and climb into the clothes I was given while my skin is still too damp. The jeans are comfortable but stop just above my ankles and the black material in the chest and shoulder area of the shirt is stretching. I don't care.

I hang the towel pathetically on a hook near the door and walk back into the kitchen. Carol turns around when she hears me and looks me up and down.

"Good," she says. "Now, in the morning you will go to Rick. You will find your way or Enid will take you, he'll decide if you're worth going outside the walls or not. By the look of you, probably not. Here, have a cookie."

She lazily shoves a pile of crumbs into my hand and picks up the basket she had sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Good luck," she says numbly as she pushes past me and walks out the door.

When she leaves I sit the crumbling cookie on the kitchen bench where her basket was and walk into the room with the glass cabinets and cushioned chairs. There are two cushions thrown onto both the chairs and a scratchy brown blanket draped over the back of the sofa. The chairs and sofa are all facing a cabinet thats lacking a TV. Theres a mirror hanging on the wall opposite to the cabinet and a bookshelf that holds books with no titles.

I walk around the outside of the room and trail my finger along the wall. When I lift it from the cream coloured paint, no dust is stuck to my skin. This place is so clean. Where the men were and where they kept me dirt and dust along with spatters of dried blood consumed the place as did the smell of rotting flesh.

A quiet tapping on the door catches my attention. Slowly, I move away from the wall of the room and stand in front of the door.

Hesitantly, I open it.