Not My Face

                              

 

She woke to find that the sun was no longer beaming on her face. Noticing that the temperature had dropped, she instinctively wrapped her arms around her body. She knew she needed to either adjust the thermostat or get a sweater because her short sleeved top was obviously no match for the cool October night. Ava stood and made her way to her bedroom closet. She chose a soft, fluffy throw instead of a sweater. She put it around her shoulders and walked over to her dresser where she sat and brushed her hair. Although she was facing the large oval shaped mirror, the reflection looking back at her was not her own, but that of a stranger, holding a knife in one hand and duct tape in the other.

Blind since birth, Ava never saw him coming.