Page 780 of Love Bites

Today was a good day…

No. No, no, no.

Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to overspill and run down her muddy cheeks.

This was her journal. This was the least important of the two books. The journal made her feel alive. Reminded her she existed. But the other one? Sheneededthat other book. Without it… without it she couldn’t live with herself. And worse, if someone found that book, they’d have all the evidence they needed to lock her up for a long time.

Shaking, she tried to think. There had to be a way to get it back.

The lost and found. The cook said he was putting it in the lost and found. Maybe she could retrieve it.

Clara looked around. It was her habit to make use of the things around her. To utilize every available asset at her disposal. The spa afforded her an opportunity to get clean. Could she use that it to get her book back? Maybe clean up enough to look like a guest? Could she walk up to the front desk and ask for the lost and found? Without freezing up. Without appearing like a bedraggled forest urchin.

She hadn’t spoken to another human in six years. Only her skink and the other animals. And herself.

God.

But she had to try. She had to get that book. It was crucial.

Okay.

Okay, she was doing this.

Clara nodded, closing her backpack and tying the strap around the end so she wouldn’t lose anything else. She crawled from under the counter and made her way carefully to the back of the spa where the showers were. The dim track lighting offered her enough glow to get a picture of her surroundings.

A small row of lockers painted a soothing blue stood outside the door. She tested one and it opened. Inside was a blue sweater and a pair of white slacks. The pants wouldn’t fit her, but the shirt might work.

The wall behind her was lined with shelves full of product. Clara scanned the array of shampoos, body washes, and lotions. Her eyes landed on an herbal hair removal remedy. She squinted as she read the instructions on the back. She was skeptical that it could work on her coarse, dark leg hair, but she was desperate. Her search for a razor had resulted in nil.

She tucked it into her elbow and grabbed some shampoo, conditioner, and soap from the shelf before ducking into the shower room.

Clara stopped just inside the door, gawking at the elaborate setup. Three stalls lined one wall, each with mosaic tiled doors framed in smooth river rock. Carefully, she set her things on the nearby bench and took a deep breath. She could do this. It was a shower. How hard could it be?

Stepping forward, she pulled on the handle of the middle stall. It came open with a snap, making her jump at the noise.

She kept still. Listening. But everything was quiet.

Pulling the door all the way open, she examined the inside. Okay, so it was your typical slide-on faucet. No funky computer mojo. She could handle that.

Clara stepped back and caught sight of herself in the mirror that took up the entire wall opposite the shower. What she saw choked her heart in her chest. That couldn’t be her. Could it? She’d seen her reflection in dark windows and in the calm of the streams she bathed in, and it hadn’t seemed so… frightening. Her outside matched her inside now.

Tainted.

Haunted. Shewasa ghost but not the kind she’d intended to be.

She took a step forward and the reflection moved too.

She was thicker than she’d been a few months ago. She knew because her clothes fit tighter. And it made sense as she was prepping for the winter. But she was much thinner than when she’d last looked at herself in an actual mirror.

She removed the ball cap she’d used to hide her hair. The dull brown stuff that tumbled out looked like burnt straw.

Clara’s eyes searched frantically for anything that looked like her. Anything that she could connect with. Something that would make her think,that’s me. She wasn’t the same person she’d been when she walked into the woods, but surely there must be something for her to hold to.

Her face was covered in mud that she’d put there in order to blend more fully into the night. But her lips maybe. Yeah, maybe they were familiar. They’d always been full. Kissable, her sister had called them.

Somehow she found her eyes, her gaze clashing with the mirror’s.

There. There she was. In the eyes.

---