Mission Semi-Complete ✔

Chapter Twenty: Who?

Ponder. That's all my mind did. The information I received from Cindy and Christopher racked my brain back and forth like a bull. The paper I saw back then at Cindy's: Mission Exclusive 5.0. I'm starting to believe this kidnap is not just a mere coincidence.

The door burst open in prance beardy accompanied by a younger woman. He loves younger women doesn't he? He quickly turns around staring down the other.

"Why hasn't in here been cleaned? Why haven't she been feed?" He walks closer to the black and brown haired girl. Her nails dig into her palm as her fingers fold into a fist. She blows harshly through her nostrils, however keeps her mouth shut.

"Cleopatra it's you who I speak to. You just left your mother in here to starve to her death. You ungrateful wretch," he barks lifting his hand to slap her.

Mother? Who? Me? She looks older than me. About Cindy's age, she even looks like Cindy.

"Clinton-" The brown eyed, pale skin fellow begun; a smack across the face sent her words flying to where they came from.

"How dare you call me, your father by name. You're no adult, you're still under my care" He drags her locks, bring her face closer to him.

"Get this room as her clean before Tessa arrives" He pushes her behind him by her hair before stepping through the door which shuts behind him.

Cleopatra holds on to her hair massaging the spot on her scalp which hurt, before showing me her abash expression. He walks out the room stopping her feet abasement echoing after her.

In no time she's back without Clinton follow his orders like a poppet. I'm allowed to wash myself, then get dressed into one of Clinton's dress shirt which stops at my knees. I'm cuffed to the bed again, which has clean sheets and no blood stains.

Cleo dresses my wounds, working faster than the wind, along with time. A knock comes at the door, when all is well, and a large woman enters.

The lady wears a lot of jewelry, and her clothes fits her quite nicely. I run my eyes over the woman once more, then spot a case in her hand.

"You look just like her for real!", the woman exclaims in her thick Spanish accent. Running up to me griping my cheeks. She spins my face like looking for something, I allow her.

"Nose, eyes, lips everything the same!", the lady utters, shouting even louder with every word she says. "You look just like her," she whispers. I blink.

What now? Who? Did I miss something? I look just like who? Stewart's peculiar look when he saw me, and his words shows itself. It's like there was a next me, who he wanted to reunite with abysmally. Is there someone like me? Am I mistaken for Clinton's wife and his children's mother. But how?

I fur my eyebrows, then pull my head back from fancy Nancy grip. She stares at me astonished, her hand sticking out in the same position still. She blinks her hazel twice, still comprehending my level of rudeness.

"Oops I'm sorry I must have startled you; my name is Tessa and I'll be getting you ready for today's function. It's just that you look so much like her. Everyone has been saying that, and I was like no she can't look like her... I. I see you now and you do look like her-"

"Who is this 'her'?" I stop Tessa's ramble. I like how I'm a celebrity around here, but it's no fun hearing you talk about me with people I have no clue about.

"Amalia you no know Amalia?" If I knew I wouldn't have asked you smarty. Whatever, what's it worth trying to talk sense into someone with nonexistent brain cells. Amalia? I think I've seen it before, where?

"The function starts in an hour Tessa", Cleopatra's voice reaches my ears. I almost forgot she was in existence. My eyes shift to her trailing her tall figure, about 5'5 just like Cindy. She walks off her boots clicking to the floor, showing that she can manage a five-inch heel well. Her hair sways to the rhythm her heels make, first the black part nearer to the scalp, then the brown at the ends. Her black suit which adorns her stick figure disappears through the open door. I turn my attention back to the pail Spanish woman who stands before me, a creepy smile still enlightening her face.