Dead Ringer *Watty 2016*

Apartment

Larkin's hands shook and her stomach was tied in knots but she smiled and tried to pretend that she had just received a bunch of new organs from a pleb that she didn't care a thing about.  The look on Archer's face showed her that her acting was not all that convincing and she gulped, hoping that Coraleigh's friends wouldn't be as observant as Archer.  The car raced ahead but Larkin was certain that she left her confidence behind, tangled up in the covers of her bed back at the sky scraper.  "We're dropping you off at her house," Arch whispered so that no one else would hear him explaining and use the word her instead of your, "no one will be there with you but I will be watching from close by."  He assured her kindly.

"Won't that be suspicious?"  She whispered back in a shaky voice.

"They think I am monitoring post sustainment, remember they know nothing of the sustainment process, any mistakes you make can be attributed to it."  His whispering became quicker as the car drew closer to Coraleigh's apartment.

Larkin nodded, already certain she would be relying heavily on that excuse since her week of education all seemed to be a blur.  The car pulled to a stop and Larkin shot one last panicked look at Archer before she climbed out of the car.  He smiled reassuringly but as always Larkin saw sadness and maybe a little fear hidden behind his eyes.  The cab pulled away from the curb.

Larkin began to feel more and more queasy and she walked up to the door that she had only seen in pictures for the last week.  She pressed the bronze button.  "Coraleigh 237" She said to the attendant breathing on the other side.

"Welcome home Coraleigh," the attendant said without any emotion and for a brief moment Larkin wondered if he was actually a real person but she waved the thought away, turning to more important things.  The door buzzed to show that it was unlocked and Lark headed in.  The elevator here was fancier than the one in the previous building and as she stepped on another almost robotic sounding attendant said, "Heading up Coraleigh."

Larkin jumped but tried to play it off as a cough hoping that the attendant wasn't able to see her but quite certain that he would be.  Luckily the elevator ride lasted for only a few seconds then it dinged letting her now that she was on floor 23 and she stepped off without another word to the hidden, robotic attendant.  She passed beautiful doors of all colors and sizes. "1...2...3...4..."  She looked at each number as she walked down the hall, careful not to pass seven in order not to raise suspicion.  Finally an annoyingly pink door with a curly gold seven, a large feline shaped gold knocker, and a diamond door knob was on the left side of her.  She turned covertly wiping the sweat off the palm onto the pink and gold jumpsuit she wore and reached for the handle.  As her fingers gripped the knob it turned a brilliant shade of purple and let out three beautiful music notes, allowing her into the home.  She hadn't been sure that the palm reader would recognize her palm so a wave of relief washed over her when it did.

She stepped into  apartment to find more pinks and golds everywhere she turned.  The sofa was of the same hot pink as the door and so was the furry rug that took up most of the dark wood floor.  A large gold television was mounted on one of the three soft pink walls.  On the gold and white chevron wall behind the sofa hung a large portrait of Coraleigh, Harlow, and Oakley with their face's smashed together and smiles plastered on their faces.  Larkin began to try to familiarize herself with the apartment and walked aimlessly from the living room into a light pink formal dinning room.  Next she stumbled upon a stark white kitchen with a clear glass table and clear glass chairs.  Her eyes  found themselves fixated on the sparkly glass thing that hung from the ceiling and she jumped back, afraid that it would fall on her.  No one had taught her about these dangerous contraptions and they definitely didn't have them in pleb village.  She reached for a switch on the wall hoping that the ceiling would suck the thing up again but white light poured out of it instead.  Larkin quickly flicked the switch back down.

After stumbling upon room after room filled with pink and gold and diamonds and plush fur and fireplaces and white light she finally found what must have been Coraleigh's bedroom.  It was all the way to the back of the apartment with only one door to enter by.  Within seconds of stepping into the room she saw that it clashed with the rest of the house.  The walls were a plainer beige with pages filled with words hung everywhere.  The bed was tucked back in the corner under a large window and the other wall was covered in book shelves.  It was only as Larkin sunk into the bed, which she was luckily much harder than the one where she spent the last week, that she noticed each word on the wall was handwritten in a lovely flowing script.  It was difficult for Larkin to make out since she was used to print but after much effort she began to realize that it was Coraleigh's writing and the subjects ranged from her friends to the sustainment to abstract poetry.

Sinking into the bed Larkin began to wonder about the Cian who had walls and walls full of thoughts that she was forced to hide away in her bedroom and she wondered how that could be the same girl who had wastefully decorated the rest of the apartment.  These two visions of the real Coraleigh clashed with each other and they clashed even more with her ideas she had about the girl she met that day.  She fell asleep wishing that she had a chance to sit and talk with Coraleigh, for some reason she felt that her Cian knew more about this world than anyone knew and Lark was saddened that this knowledge had to die with her.