___test___ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ___test___) wrote,@ 2006-12-25 19:37:00 |
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In the heart of the city was a building. In this building were many rooms. One cold, dark room in particular had only one light struggling to extend its luminosity to every corner of the room. In the far left corner was a girl hidden in the shadows. She was curled up, arms locked around her knees and her back resting against both walls at the sharp angle. The room was plain and grey. It looked like an old interrogation room, which, quite possibly, it might have been.
Signs of exhaustion could be found everywhere on the girl huddled in the corner, except for her eyes. Her eyes were wide, taking in her surroundings. She did not blink often but when she did the eyelids would only flutter for a second. The action was almost to slight to see. The eyes of the girl were wise. They seemed to know everything, yet the girl herself seemed to know nothing. Suddenly, the door in the center of the far wall opened and the powerful eyes darted toward it. A man who looked to be about 40 years of age entered and sat at the table, placing his briefcase on the table and opening it with two loud clicks. The girl rose and walked to the chair closest to her, the only other chair in the room. She sat across for the man, staring him down.
The older man pulled the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it in the ashtray in front of him. The man blew out the smoke before speaking. "I see you've learned the routine, Miss Brown. I'll only ask you a few questions and hopefully we can get you out of here soon." The girl nodded her head in acknowledgement but knew better than to believe him. She had heard those words several times over the last few days; each time from a different person, each time the same questions. The first time she had been asked, Miss Brown couldn't answer any of them. The second time the questions were reworded but still she couldn't answer them. She was unaware how many times precisely she had been asked these questions but she was tired of it.
The man asked the third and most difficult question of all. "Do you know who your parents are and where they might be located?" Finally the girl broke her silence, "Mister Baines, how many times have you asked me these questions?"
Mister Baines looked at the girl in shock. "Umm...Six times, Miss Brown."
"And how many times have I been asked these questions by your associates?"
"At least forty times, Haley."
"And have I ever answered them differently, Mister Baines?"
The man looked through his notes, hoping to find any differences in the interrogations. "I- a- I guess not, Miss Brown."
The girl stood, pushing her chair back. "Then I'm afraid you will receive the same answers as before. I suggest the next time you return, you have a new set of questions to ask." The girl turned swiftly and returned to her position in the corner, hidden once again in shadows.
Who am I? They tell me my name is Haley Jana Brown, but who am I? Who was she? Who is she? Who am I? I don't know where I am anymore. For the past few days I've been held hostage in this place which I cannot describe. People have been asking me questions and I don't know the answers to any of them. Why? Am I lost? This isn't how I remember my life. I used to be able to close my eyes and change things. Was that the real world, or is this? I no longer know what is real and what is not. Actually, I do not know if I ever knew what was real. I remember thinking I want to go home but I don't know where home is. All of this knowledge flows through my veins yet still I know nothing. My life has become a paradox.
Who am I?