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Chapter 6: Running from Myself

I now understand Patrick's inability to say anything to this lost soul. "I'm sorry."

She smiles, but it's a sad half attempt at a smile. "Everyone's always sorry. That's all people say. Like I'm some mistake they can't fix."

I shouldn't have come here. I back away. "I wish that one day, we can be friends, but right now, I have to go."

Her face lights up in a true smile. "I'd like that. I'd like to be friends. When you get back, can we talk more?"

I nod. I can't trust my words right now. I flee the study. I should have never gone to say goodbye to that wisp of a person who was once the mighty and fierce Azalea.

I run back to my room. Melanie is still not back. I wonder where she is. No matter. I unhook the top of my slim black dress, pull the zipper down, strip it off, and throw it off. I am not that person anymore.

The door opens and Melanie walks in. "Hope is talking to Azalea."

Melanie looks surprised, and looks at me.

"Sorry, I set the room to say that while I went and talked to Azalea. I forgot to unset it when I got back."

She nods. "Yes. computers always do as they are told. It took a little while, but I also managed to find you a new pair of boots that will work with this outfit. I couldn't have you wearing those old worn out ones anymore. I also took the liberty of upgrading the outfit a bit."

Oh no. Would it still work as a disguise?

"Don't worry, the top pieces are still that same nasty brown material, patched and cleaned, but I got you a dress that fit underneath so you wouldn't have to wear the nasty scratchy material against your skin. I can only imagine how inflamed that pale, sensitive, weak skin of yours will get wearing this."

I hug her. I hadn't even thought about anything like that. I've never properly appreciated Melanie. "Thank you." I say.

Melanie smiles. "Now Ma'am, let's get you dressed for your visit."

She holds up the new piece she mentioned. It's a thin light blue dress she holds up. Long sleeve, turtle neck, and floor length with a seam at the waist allowing the skirts to flare out from the waist. She helps me put it on and it fits like a glove.

I reach for the brown shift, but she puts her hand on mine. "Wait Ma'am if you're going out we should darken your complexion." She motions toward the vanity. Make-up? It's like she knows I want to go into hiding. Maybe that's only reasonable with what's on the news.

I go over and sit in the chair next to the vanity. I wish I could look in the mirror as she does my make-up. This is taking too long. What if Patrick comes back soon?

She finishes and turns the stool towards the mirror. My face... It doesn't look like me. It's so much darker, like a normal person. She's even somehow darked the roots of my hair. My eyebrows and eyelashes are black.

I reach up to touch the face, to make sure it's my own, and she stops me. "Don't touch it. You don't want to run it off and ruin the illusion."

I nod. This disguise is perfect. I wonder if Nathan will even recognize me looking like this.

"Now let's finish dressing you."

I stand up, and she slips the brown shift over my head. It covers most of the dress. A little blue peaks out around the edges of the sleeves and the collar. I grab the head scarf and start to wrap it around, but Melanie takes it from me.

"You know, if you wrap the headscarf properly, you can cover your hair perfectly as well as your pale white neck." She carefully wraps it up, and the blue around my neck is gone. The girl in the mirror looks like one of the muslim women, except for the ghostly white hands.

She hands me black gloves. "Make sure to keep your hands covered or the illusion is broken."

She steps back, looking me over. "Now you are better covered." She stops after she says this, and her smile fades to a straight, serious look. "And while you wear this, remember the brave women who have fought to be allowed to continue to dress like this. The women who have faced much harassment and criticism so that they can continue to dress as they believe they should according to their religious beliefs. Remember them, and while you wear it, uphold their beliefs and follow their ways so that you do not destroy that privilege."

I nod. I hadn't expected Melanie to get so serious about my choice of disguise. She hadn't said anything last time I wore it. Maybe it had been bothering her since I last wore it. "I will remember that, and I won't do anything while wearing this to destroy their religious privilege."

She smiles again and steps forward, reaching her arms around me, hugging me. "Thank you Ma'am. I'll make sure no one notices you leaving or when you come back."

"Thanks Melanie. I appreciate it." I don't mention that I won't be coming back. I can't.

She steps back again, and this time she immediately goes to pick up the dropped dress. "Now go on. You'll want to be home before Patrick gets back I assume."

Of course. I want to be gone from their world before he gets back. "See you later, Melanie." I lie.

She waves in a gesture that is partially a goodbye and partially a shoo. "Go on. Stop lingering."

It strikes me again how different she is from when I first met her. She didn't seem to care about anything when I first met her, but now she put in the effort to help me disguise myself. She is right though. I can't linger here much longer.

I walk out, calmly, like this is an everyday occurrence, and the doors open as they always do for me. The shuttle is still there, waiting for me to tell it where to go. I step on and listen to its welcoming phrase when not set on auto navigation, "Where to, Mayor Hope."

It's strange how the machines always know who I am. But that doesn't matter right now. Right now I need to get away, and at the same time not be too close to Nathan's place that I will tip Patrick off. "Dock's station 5."

That stop is also close to Lizzie's old hideout, so he might think I am going there. I have enough memories collected of this area that navigating to Nathan's from there is fairly easy.

The shuttle starts off, heading into the airway traffic that will take it towards my next stop. The docks are a distance away, so I sit down on one of the fold out seats. I'm glad you're still with me.

I'm glad you've been with me through this whole fiasco. Maybe I've been too harsh on you in the past, exporting more out of you than just your company. Maybe that's all you are, my imaginary friend I created for company. Or maybe you are the shape of my conscious? Or maybe you are the ghost of Lily, the girl who used to own this body. I don't really care anymore though. You are whoever you are, my ghostly companion.