I stared into the shattered shards of glass. They once made a beautiful mirror that I had since childhood. I stare at the reflection in it. It doesn't look like me. Not how I once was. My skin is a pastey white that could use a touch of makeup and cleaning. My hair was dark and needed brushed terribly. It was one huge knot.
Black circles laid under my emotionless eyes. My eyes are a dark brown that show nothing. Not even sadness anymore. I have locked myself in this room. I have not left it in so long. I couldn't, or they will get me.
"They?" you ask. "They" are the ones who wanted my secrets. I know many secrets and they wanted them too. As I spoke of them, I heard footsteps approach my eternal cage. I grabbed a piece of glass. It is the only weapon my prison allowed me. I waited for my door to be opened.
My breath became rapid with anticipation. I placed my legs slightly apart and firmly on the floor below. My floor. I wanted to be able to reach quickly against "them." My door knob began to turn. This was time. Time for prophecies to come true.
I watched the knob turn ever so slowly. "They" must've thought that I was at rest. But I do not sleep. Never have these cold eyes closed since I found that "they" wanted my secrets. The longer it took for "them" to open my door, the more anxious I became.
A man entered. I quickly lashed out at him with the shard of glass. I hit the main artery in his neck. Blood spurted everywhere. It gargled in his throat as he made his last breath. After I watched him die, I ran from the room. Of course I took the gun he carried on his right breast.
Blood covered my skin and clothes. Some of the blood, I noticed, was also mine. I must've opened my past wounds. God knows that I have so many. I didn't have time to worry about it though. More men came soon. I darted into an empty room on my right.
I hid behind the door, waited, watched. They entered the room. Their mistake. I let out a stream of bullets from my borrowed gun. Men fell with bullets in their head, chest, or arms. Some did not want to die with only one shot either. Their moans of death arose from their bleeding mouths. The sound surrounded me.
More men came as they heard the shots being fired from my weapon. I grabbed another man's gun, then with a little faith, I leaped out the window directly behind me. Shattered glass fell with me and littered the ground below even before I hit it. I did land gracefully on the ground though. No broken bones, torn limbs, or more wounds. I looked back up at the fourth story window and saw the men grouped there, readying their guns to kill me.
But I was faster than they. I shot first. Many fell from the window. Their contaminated blood stained the once pure, green grace. Their brains and entrails made a splatting sound as they left the men's bodies. It was a grotesque sight, but I had my secrets to protect from these villianess men. I had to make sure that they were all dead.
I ran around the bodies of my recent prey and hunters. My bare feet made a squishing sound as I stepped on some of the grossness. It made my stomach turn, but my safety was more important. I searched and scanned the whole perimeter of the building as I made my way back to my cage. I as the only one left standing. The men's soulless bodies littered the hallways and the once empty bedroom, along with their blood.
This is what my mind relays to me everday. A dream, something to fancy me with. All it wishes to do is to prepare me. Prepare me for the day "they" really come. The "ones" who want my secrets. I stare at the door knob still. Watching and waiting for it to turn ever so slowly.

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