I pull out various tubes and containers holding foundations and cover ups. I use my shaking hand to dab the make up on my wrist, whimpering in pain each time until my wrist looks normal. I hold it up to the light and I inspect it thoroughly, nodding at the outcome. "Perfect." I throw my makeup bag back under the sink and I stand up on one foot again. I lunge to get the door open and I bang my head on the wall earning a harsh curse. I twist the doorknob and the door swings open. I bite the inside of my cheek as I throw both of my arms out to grip the walls, pain spiriting up my arm. "Can I have an ice pack please?" I ask, hopping down the hall to the kitchen where each band member is. My eyes roam from Eli, who is behind the stove, as well as Jeremy beating his fingers on his thigh. Danny, who is hunched over the table, his hand moving furiously across the pieces of paper scattered around the table top. Then lastly is Luke, who is staring at me with hurt flickering in his eyes. I. Her voice was soft and warm. She spoke slowly and with an inherent sweetness that made me yearn for each and every word that she uttered. She told me that in the course of her studies, She had in a fashion learnt to understand people. She knew about men who carried guns and generally didn’t like them. She liked hobby hunters even lesser. I apparently didn’t seem to act like any criminal She had ever seen. Nor did I appear to be a hobby hunter who killed for pleasure. So, according to Her, I had obviously lied. This, it seemed was fine by Her as my lie was probably only said to maintain my own privacy. And privacy was something She respected. I in turn asked Her if She was usually in a habit of walking up to gun toting strangers and calling them liars. She said She wasn’t but had made an exception in my case. I couldn’t help but smile at this. She said there was something about my voice that reminded her of something or someone She had known many years ago. My heart skipped a.
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