As usual the sirens blared and as usual she stared at her unconscious body trapped behind the misted glass of what she could only assume was an erect casket. Ayanda had been her before, so many times that she knew exactly what would happen next. She knew these dark hallways like her own broken mind. With both she knew there were missing pieces but not what those pieces were. Like all the other times she wandered the labyrinthine corridors and stared at the endless rows of other girls trapped behind their own glass displays. Ayanda could never understand why every face was exactly the same, surely they would all be different and change whenever she came here. She could make out a computerised voice addressing the compound over the intercom but not what it was saying. A passageway lined with doors stretched out before her. Guttural screams came from each but Ayanda felt nothing. Everything about this place was as familiar to her as her own dark face. Her deep brown eyes, her full lips, the nearly flawless way her features arranged themselves, even the inexplicable marking that snaked down her nape. It's origin unbeknownst to her, when others asked about it she would just say,"Oh that? It's a tattoo." The cries continued as she walked down the passage. It felt as though hours had passed but this was expected. Unexpectedly she found herself back at the faces behind each display that she knew belonged to her. Again she stared at her unconscious self as she had earlier and wondered what all of this meant. She studied the simplicity of her own prison and thought about the vividness with which she was seeing everything. This was the first of the numerous times she had been here that she had actually gotten the chance to study herself this thoroughly. Normally she was always on the move, whether meandering down corridors and exploring or running for dear life as people sharing her own face pursued her for only God knew why. Ayanda stared at herself for a few seconds longer. Acknowledging her own sheer beauty and lithe body. She could be mistaken for a killer or even a soldier at the very least. Then Ayanda saw something that had never happened in all the years she had been here. The Ayanda in front of her opened her eyes.