The Writer

Looking in the mirror Ana hardly recognised the girl that stared back at her. She looked too coiffed and doll like. Inhuman. Only the eyes were recognisable. The clothes weren’t something she’d normally wear either but Christoph had laid them out on the bed, declaring he wanted her to wear them so she would.

“You look beautiful Anastasia,” he whispered proudly as he came up behind her and kissed her cheek. When he asked if she remembered the script he’d given her for tonight Ana could only nod, and attempt to convince herself that she wasn’t slowly losing her identity.