The Girl From Above [Ground: Zero, Book 1]

9: My Lips are Sealed

The sound of water dripping pecked at Ryan's ears. The smell of minty pine and soggy wood grain clashed in her nose. She brushed herself off and rubbed the sleep from eyes.

She found herself in her old bed. Like the rest of her aunt's house, her room was ivory white from floor to ceiling. Did she have any choice in the way her own room was decorated? No, of course not. Antique high class furniture surrounded the room like a fence. She grumbled to herself, crossing her legs and pulling a pillow onto her lap as she sat up. The mirrors around the room reflected her sorrows.

It was bad enough to have one mirror, but her aunt had decided three was the perfect amount. One on her wall, one on the vanity next to her bed, and one body length mirror. She balled the pillowcase in her hands. She'd rather be stuck in an empty room with no exits than be stuck with them. The mirrors cackled, their glassy smiles and wide eyes picked apart Ryan like a piñata. She wished she could block out their screams, but they watched her like a trio of relentless demons in the night.

Ryan took a deep breath, her chest felt like it had a two ton weight lodged in it. No, she was ok, she could do this. They were just mirrors, nothing more, nothing less.

She placed her hands down and slowly hoisted herself off of the bed. Her bare feet dragged behind her, her toes dug into the hardwood floor. She stretched her arms towards the sky and her back made tiny popcorn cracks in response. She stood and faced the mirror nearest to her bed, her body-length mirror.

It took all of her willpower to not look away. Her eyes traced along her reflection, she silently inspected herself like a butcher inspecting a piece of meat.

Ryan sighed. Often times she wished she were a slab of meat, that way she could cut off the parts of herself that were unsavory. Her pudge? Gone. Her flabby and awful arms that ruined every picture she had of herself? Gone. Her awful cheeks that bloated and ruined her face? Gone, cut away and unable to bother her. She'd toss them all away in a garbage fire if she had to.

She indulged in the thought for a moment, sinking her nails into her cheeks, a silent hope sat in the her mind that they would pop off like a toy. She hooked her nails into the side of her face and pulled her cheeks up into a grin that stretched her lips thin. If she weren't staring at herself she might've laughed, but she could only look at the girl in front of her with a surge of disappointment.

She dropped her cheeks and her face flushed with color. Red indents cut into her skin where her nails had been. The little indents cut her freckles in half, leaving tiny white cuts. For a moment, it seemed like some of her freckles were gone. Good, maybe then she could look less like she was diseased with all of those blotches and more like a proper girl.

Ryan paused. She was repeating what her aunt had told her. Her aunt always told her day after day that she would be such a pretty girl if she didn't have so many freckles. Yet, was her aunt wrong? She took a step away from the mirror. Her heart pounded against her chest as if it wanted to break out. She grabbed her arms and picked at the goosebumps on her upper arm. She scratched at them until they bled. No, she couldn't be in this body, this couldn't be her, nobody would love her like this, especially when they found out about her disease.

No, those were just excuses, if she fixed herself, if she could just deal with it she would be worthy enough for everyone. Her aunt would be proud if she would just listen. Everything would be better if she just listened for once. The only one to blame for her problems was her.

She twirled her hair around her finger and yanked as hard as she could. She rocked back and forth on her feet, and bounced in place. Her aunt had always described her blonde hair as "hair that belonged to a princess." If it hadn't been her aunt, Ryan might've considered that a compliment, but the way her aunt said it always made it seem like Ryan wasn't even worthy of her own curls.