Clueless

Lyra " This is all yours." I somehow catch a gun with one hand. Funny, I didn't even realise I could catch. I turn slowly to a person struggling to get out of the chair , her screams are muffled behind the masking tape as her glassy eyes look over to me. " She's breaking." I say, without much control over what comes out of my mouth. " We've already got the infomation, just kill her " A familiar voice replies , impatience lacing every word. I try to stop myself from obeying his orders. You have a choice! I scream at myself but I don't seem to hear as I aim the gun at the woman , pulling the trigger. What? No! I had no say in this! Why aren't I doing what I want to be doing! But I already know the answer. This isn't real. It's just a dream. A dream like any other. I toss and turn in my bed, trying to pry my eyes open and get rid of the blurry images in my head. It's weird, I know. I shouldn't be doing such a thing. Sleep is probably the best thing to most people.  But I promise you I have a good enough reason to. I finally manage to sit up in the mess of sheets on my bed, almost as messy as my mind, blinking rapidly at the small room I'm in. I almost have to remind myself that I'm not trapped in and that I did, infact, Pick this place myself. When my brain finally decides to co-operate and leave the dream world, I turn to the window just as soon as a sudden flow of dissapointment washes over me. It's barely even morning. I groan as I slip out off bed , almost stumbling as I do so, and even though somewhere in my mind there's a voice telling me to get my ass back to bed... I decide to do the opposite. I stagger over to my closet and pull it open , throwing out some clothes that I hope will look good together then heading over to my bathroom as steadily as possible. I switch on the dim light , almost avoiding my reflection on the full length mirror. Keyword : almost.  I take a step back to take a good look at myself, at how similar I look to a drowned rat. I swear I'm not always this horrifying to look at. I turn to face the mirror , swiping my reddish-brown hair out of the way of my hazel eyes. I straighten my shoulders a little flashing a fake smile whilst my long hair sways slightly.  Perfect. I think, staring at my reflection. You can't tell I have any issues , sleep deprivation or whatever and you most certainly can't tell that I'm a paranoid freak. All thanks to this fake little face I pull off , how easy it is to hide your emotions. ~~~~~ The sun finally rises by the time I've finished my second bowl of cereal after getting dressed, counting the cars outside my flat and the third episode of Brooklynn nine-nine comes to an end.  I stretch out my limbs before hopping off the sofa and snatch my keys from the coffee table, giving the window one last look before I'm behind the door and shutting it tight. As I'm striding across the corridor I pause at the elavator then let out a smirk . " No way in hell am I ever gonna be in there. " I mumble mainly to myself but don't go unheard.. " Why not? " His voice is sharp, almost accusing me of commiting a crime. " Because, creep , elavators have been the death of many people. " I grin at him but he doesn't seem to be affected by my answer. " Well I've been the death of more. " He steps forward as his height towers over me , his icy blue eyes look down at me with a smug smile. " I doubt that." I snap back and I don't even wait for his reply as I shove him out of the way and take the stairs two at a time.  I know , sometimes I suprise myself with how much of a daredevil I am. But noooo, he doesn't stop there . I can practically imagine his head popping out of the side as he says this with an evil grin " Gosh, I don't think I've seen Mrs Kenner in a while." I turn to glare at him, " I heard she's on holiday , Lucas." I force a smile as the words barely come out bitter. I'm not letting him get to my head , I repeat over and over in my mind as I continue down the flight of stairs.