The Girl in Black (Rewriting)

Chapter, 55

What is normal? I had asked this question a few more times to myself as my complaints —about having normality extracted from my life, had grown day by day. But somehow, the question had remained a unanswered question hanging low in the air. And the few who had put some effort to make up an answer, had only produced a somewhat unassailable answer.

For me, normal was having a constant cycle from day to day basis. A perfect routine of sleep, meals, chit chats with loved ones, family dinners and a perfect life. And when I pondered over the answer, it drew to me that perfect are normal are at some point associated with themselves or perhaps for me they are.

But then, another question, following the previous one, would occur to me ; Does normal exists?

No, would be my answer. For me, normality, even prior to me being an agent, had never transpired itself. When I was weak, I wished to be strong, when I had a somewhat routine, I wanted something out of ordinary. When I had a by chance lest family member, I envied more. When I would cry, I'd crave for a shoulder.

And now, I have these things. Agent's training had helped me polish the very power I never knew could exist in my weak bones. Everyday would turn out to be a sort of adventure—or out of routine. I had —not  biological— but family members. The greatest of all. My tears would be wiped away with a gently stroke of Leo's hand. So, wasn't this a normal for a previous me?

But why isn't this a normal for now me? I knew I was unthankful. I had trailed my eyes upon my problems first than on my blessings. I had envied more and more. Craved more. But these thought, had provoked me a very thought of a little truth. For Elsa Stone, Normal does not exists.

And this Elsa Stone , no longer wants it. Cause altering my life to fit in the little circle created by world by perfecting it, had only led me to inescapable problems.

I hit my head at the wall ever so gently and pulled up my feeble legs up to my chest that curved my stomach who growled out of hunger. I cleared my dried throat who begged desperately for water and rolled my shoulders that pained as my hands were cuffed back. The little specks of energy and enthusiasm seemed to be evaporating from my body and though we were trained, a hunger for two days had started to transform itself into a terrible beast.

Dr. Madison had , according to her promise, did not come. The guards would patrol around every now and then. These little bars had done a little good to us at least, we had memorised the guards routine.

I closed my eyes, a sign for praying to let the sleep come, that maybe, I could be woken up from this drastic nightmare. None uttered a word since our encounter with Dr.madison. Perhaps, we were afraid the guards might eavesdrop our not so secret conversation. So we stayed there—trapped, helpless and away.

Two days had passed. Seem a short time period eh? But no it wasn't. When you have nothing to do but to think every single second is not such a good thing to pass your time. And those thoughts could be positive and negative without having any control of yours anymore.

I took a deep breath. Tried to graze my brain back from the blue skies and red flowers. I needed to do something but what? I had no idea.

The door far from the hallway end squeaked and I furrowed. The guard duties weren't changed yet. They wouldn't be back until five minutes so who was here? I gave up a failed effort of lifting up my head to peek for the person. Cause the sharp sound of click cluck of Dr. Madison's heels was not this. The sound seemed heavy footsteps to be taken with trained  gait.

I merely looked at my right to see the person who had now rooted outside my cell. He was wearing mask and for a moment, he stared down at me. And then, he lifted his mask off his face.