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The girl from the delivery accident, as she pleaded for him to call her, or anything except her name, at the moment had no true identity. She claimed to be someone, know her entire history, but her DNA said something else. A name she had never heard came up in the screen, family she never met, an age that was younger, yet strangely older.
Zachary tried to reason with her, proving that the girl that came up in the results matched every single inch of her. But consciousness cannot be measured, she thought.
Her teary eyes gazed at the mirror, and a woman who she had never met was staring back, copying her very actions perfectly. This is not me, there has to be some trick on all mirrors, right? But deep down a chirpy voice recognized the figure crying behind the glass. That is me.
Both hands gripped on her hair, deafened by the thoughts and information that ran through her brain as if in a race. She squirmed, sweated, felt her blood pressure drop, eyes closing. And then, she opened them and a girl with beige skin and big eyes ogled solemnly to the side.
The room around her was consumed by a recollection of her brain, a memory, if you will.
Her brown eyes watched carefully the outlines of the trees, at least, the quick glimpses she saw since they were moving so fast. A warm smell of coffee recently brewed filled her nostrils, the sweet touch of cinnamon rolls lingered in the air and her taste buds, they had to be the best in the entire world.
She could almost feel that same taste in her tongue.
Her hand rested on the window, admiring the view. In that same position, she had fallen asleep. She couldn't remember the dream, though. Maybe it wasn't that important.
When her eyes reopened it was night.
There was a soft knock on the door but she didn't open it, someone she shared the compartment with did. It was a woman, she recalled. But her face was blurred out of her brain. Skipping unimportant parts, her daydream jumped towards the end.
Her hands shaking, trying to open the window. Legs kicking the unbreakable glass until, it finally gave in into her anxiety, shattering into small pieces, opening up a whole for her to jump but then-
there was a loud noise that brought brightness into her sight. She was blinded by the lights of the bathroom mirror, where the same almond eyes glared her way. The knock on the door repeated, startling her once again. She pulled away from the door and swung it open, tired of being clueless, craving for answers and solutions. There had to be a reason she remembered being someone else, that frightened girl on the train, instead of the name that left his lips.
"Robin, are you okay?" Scourge, as he had presented himself - such a stupid name-, questioned with a hint of worry in his eyes. He shook his head and started to apologize for calling her that name, but stopped himself when he saw her eyes lost focus.
