Ghost Bird | ✔

Thirty-Three

The alarm splits through the air and I wake up with a jolt. Cleopatra throws herself off her bed and hits the ground with a thump.

"I put your clothes in the closet," She calls. "Pick out whatever you want to wear."

Heading to the closet, I grab a pair of white joggers and a white tank top that reveals a lot of my scars. I discreetly tuck the thumb drive into my pocket for later. The white clothing makes them seem to glow, but I don't really care anymore. I guess my dream gave me a bit of confidence, even if it is unrealistic of me to draw strength from a mere dream.

Grabbing a pair of running shoes and socks, I put them on and wait by the door.

"Oh, you don't have to wait," Cleopatra says with a wave of her hand. "You know the way to the gym, right?"

"Yes, Cleo," I call back. "I'll see you later then."

"Goodbye," She says with a warm smile.

Wrinkling my brow in confusion over her odd behavior, I pull open the metal door and head to the gym, one of the few rooms that do not have concrete for the walls, floor, and ceiling.

"Sang!" Luther calls. "Glad you are back. Today we will condition for two hours. Then you will take a break and go with some others for office work and come back for two hours of combat training."

I try not to smile at the way he spits "office work" as if it is a dirty word.

Luther starts me out on the treadmill and then we rotate between various other pieces of training equipment before the time runs out.

"Not bad, Sang," He says. "You definitely have room for improvement, but you are doing well for your size and lack of prior training."

"Thank you, Luther," I tell him.

I am not thanking him for the evaluation, I am thanking him for taking the time to train me and work with me.

Luther smiles warmly. "Just doing my job. You need to head to the right, go straight, take a left, and enter the third door on your right."

Nodding, I exit the room silently and move through the halls until I get to the door that Luther was talking about. I push it open and it swings soundlessly on the hinges. Closing it behind me, I approach a man at a desk. Not wanting to disturb him while he is working, I wait patiently while the man finishes typing something up. He stacks some papers, muttering something under his breath, and turns to set the papers down. Seeing me, he drops his papers to clutch his heart.

"Who the hell are you?!" He exclaims. He seems to be naturally pale, but a shade or two paler than healthy.

"My name is Sang Sorenson, and I believe that you were expecting me," I reply calmly.

"Yeah, you're late. Wait. How long have you been here?" He asks looking at me with suspicious and wild green eyes. "Actually, I don't want to know. My name is Edgar White. Sit down, I have some questions."

I sit down and bite my lip as I wait somewhat nervously.

"Now, I need your full name and date of birth so we can locate your birth records," He informs me while pulling something up on his screen.

"Umm... I actually don't have any records," I tell him, a blush spreading over my cheeks. "My name is Sang Rose Sorenson and I'm not sure when my birthday is. I'm pretty sure that it is sometime in October."

"No records? Like at all?" Edgar gawks, his green eyes wide.

"Well, I'm apparently a famous singer known as Ghost Bird," I say.

Hopefully, that will make up for the fact that I have no records. I don't want them to throw me out just because I don't have records or proof that I exist.

"Ghost Bird?!" He squeals. The natural ruddiness of his cheeks turns to a blush.

"Y-Yes," I stammer, thrown off balance by his behavior.

"Wait, wait," Edgar commands. "I have a poem that I want you to listen to and tell me what you think. Please?"

"Umm, okay?"

"The mirrors are

How they watch us.

Every day, every night,

You are

Always being watched.

Right now, yesterday, your whole life,

Everything has been seen.

While you are sleeping, eating, changing

Always, they are always watching.

The mirrors are thin and you

Can see the backs of them, you say.

How small can cameras and microchips get, though?

Incredibly small, small enough to fit in glass.

No one is watching, you say. Quit being paranoid.

Good job being optimistic.

Now face the truth.

Others always have and always will be

Watching you."

I lean back in my chair as he looks at me with his eager green eyes.

"So? What did you think? I call it Mirrors."

"It's... very interesting," I tell him honestly. "It gave me goosebumps."

"You flatter me," Edgar says with a wave of his hands and a huge smile.

"What were the other questions?" I ask, trying to get him back on topic.

"Oh, yeah." He frowns. "Are you sure you don't want to hear more?"

"I'm sure it is incredible, but I do need to get back to Luther soon," I press.

"Okay, then," Edgar sighs, running a hand through his dark hair.

The process doesn't take too much longer. Edgar spares no time asking me every question that he can think of, typing up my answers word for word.

"I'll send a copy of this to Kaiden," He tells me as I am leaving.

He mumbles under his breath, "And I will make sure to never lose the original. Ghost Bird is the coolest person ever."

My cheeks burn with what I know must be an extremely dark blush. A grin splits across my cheeks as I stride to the gym, a bounce working its way into my steps.

It's nice to have someone who likes you.