by Miranda Hawkins
Silently, Adele paced the sparse and sterile room. From one corner to the other and back again, unconsciously mimicking the style of a large cat in a zoo. Every now and then she'd pause to steal a furtive glance at the mirror covering the far wall. She didn't like what she saw. Despite never having been a fastidious dresser her disheveled clothes caused Adele to wrinkle her upturned nose in dismay, a slight frown forming on her thin lips. And, not having bathed in days, her dark curls hung in long greasy locks, falling haphazardly into her face every time she turned.
This was no way for them to treat her! Glancing again toward the mirror Adele knew they were watching, waiting for her to reveal something. Well, she may have been naive enough to buy into that ‘peace and love' crap they'd been spouting, but it'd be a cold day in hell before she'd let them realize just how scared she actually was! Cursing inwardly at her gullibility, Adele thought back to the first time she'd heard about the program. It was one day after class; her Communications instructor had brought it to her attention. They'd discussed at length the ideas behind it as well as the benefits to the community should she agree to participate. If only she'd had more...
Adele was seized from her thoughts by the shushed opening of the only door. A man as pale as the room's white-washed walls stood there, dressed all in pastel blue. His hard, black eyes seemed to stare straight through her.
He spoke, his voice resonantly monotonous. "Adele Peters."
Cautiously, trying to keep her voice as neutral as his, she replied, "Yes."
"Follow me, please."
"Well," she thought as she went to the door. "At least he's polite."
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