She sat alone on her newly tiled modern bathroom floor. The cold tiles making her body shiver. Her tries making many, many marks and stains on her clothing. She had just went out yesterday and bought the already stained clothes. Maybe she wanted to stop. Stop eating. Stop breathing. But we don’t know.

Then . . .

There was an orchestra of sounds, windows opening and glass shattering, doors slamming open or falling on the floor. The sounds repercussion was louder.

She was now surronded by people in all-black clothing. But she didn’t know that. She still had her arms around her knees hugging her legs closer to her body as she looked down.

“We found one of the _Family _members, ma’am.” A voice said talking on a phone.

The words of _Family _shocked her and she raised her head so quickly.

“Is it my daughter?” The voice on the other end of the phone asked.

The girl had short hair and looked smaller than the woman’s daughter.

“Mom….” She muttered looking at the woman speaking to the girl’s mother.

“This one appears to have short hair and isn’t very tall.” The woman said looking back at the girl who continued to silently cry.

“That isn’t my daughter. Bring the girl to me but keep searching.” The woman said before she hung up the phone.

Two women in the room picked the girl up and helped her stand up. She was sad that she lost a chance to gain her mother’s affection. But even more so mad at her mother, she couldn’t even tell that she was her daughter and all it took was some scissors and a mirror.

_The family_. My _family_. Was fake and now I’m stuck here being fake as well.

**…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………**

Inspired by boredom.

Based off of the new Netflix series, R. S. L.