My Name Was Emily (4)
I sat before a mirror as the wrap came off, Mr. Porter pulling it carefully. Chloe was lifting my ebony locks; showers hadn't weakened the color at all. Mrs. Porter's hand was within my own. She seemed rather nervous and excited again.
I'd had two days to prepare for this. I wasn't quite sure what I'd see in a moment, but sensed that I wouldn't be pleased with it.
As the highest bandage was pulled away, I noticed that I had different eyebrows now. Both of them lowered as I studied the glass. Then another part of the wrap came loose. My nose was different. My cheeks were too.
I started to quiver. My head felt light. “What on Earth...?” I tried to stand.
Mrs. Porter squeezed, holding me down. “Just relax, sweetie,” she barely whispered. I saw a sense of awe as I glanced at her face.
Then I looked back at my own again — but it wasn't mine. Not at all. As the final bit of the wrap came off, I saw a lovely face that I knew quite well, one I never thought I'd behold again. Not in the flesh. Not like this.
The horrified face was Elizabeth Porter's. I looked exactly like Lizzie now.
Absolute terror flowed out of my lungs. I screamed more loudly than I thought I could.
“Lizzie!” Mrs. Porter said at my side.
I didn't reply. I kept on wailing.
Mr. Porter wrapped a white cloth on my face. Within a few seconds, I'd started to sleep.
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