The Girl That Knew Nothing

sterile

She awoke. Surrounded by a thin duvet wrapped elegantly around her naked form the girl opened her eyes, slowly, tentatively; not allowing too much of the intruding morning sunlight into them. She squinted and blinked, slowly habituating herself to the bright rays that poured from the open window. She lay on crisp white sheets in an equally as white room and when the girl breathed in the fresh morning air it felt as clean as both and cleansed her head from all sleep induced drowsiness. Sitting up slowly the girl allowed the sheets to fall from her torso and the sunlight bathed her in a golden glow, accentuating the perfect curves of her pale breasts. A small bird hopped from the roof outside onto her window ledge, twittered and flapped it’s wings for a second, and then fell silent, as if analysing the beauty on the bed. The girl smiled a smile as warm as the sunlight which dappled her body and the bird, like a voyeuristic schoolboy who had just been caught, turned, embarrassed, and flew away. A moment of incomprehensible loneliness swept over the girl as she watched the first signs of life she had encountered since she awoke fly away into a pale blue sky. The moment passed and the girl glanced around the sterile-looking room she inhabited. In the corner of her eye the girl caught a glimpse of another girl sitting at the opposite end of the room and gasped. Pulling the sheets up against her body once more the girl studied the girl across from her, who was unmoving. Seconds passed as the two stared each other down until the girl realised her intimidating and equally as stubborn roommate was nothing more than her own reflection. Laughing, but ultimately confused, the girl got out of bed and approached the mirror which lined the entirety of the wall. She pressed her hand up against the mirror and her reflection did the same. Fingertip to fingertip the girls stared at each other. Her laughter, which had been cut short upon her feet touching the cold tiles of the floor, was already but a faint memory trying to sustain itself by ringing futilely and eerily against the deadly silence. The girl did not recognize the person staring back at her. Running her fingers along her own chin and turning her head from side to side the girl examined herself, stared into the grey eyes which mirrored her unspoken concern, tugged at hair which she knew not. The girl tried to say something but when she opened her mouth the sound refused to come out, too scared that, like her face, it would not be recognised. She tried again, braver this time. “Hello?” The girl managed, still only a whisper, in a voice that failed to ring any bells of recognition. She did not know herself.

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~ by Joseph Blame on August 1, 2010.

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