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The electronic breeping coming from a small plastic black box on a metallic nightstand reverbrated with the loud noise it emitted. A body stirred in the bed next to the nightstand and slowly a smooth milky hand reached out to quiet the obtrusive breeping noise that cut through the air to bounce and echo off of the walls. As slowly as that hand, a head appeared with unruly chocolate locks seeming to end only where the bed covers started that was until the figure rose and the length of chocolate tresses was reveiled. The soft silky messy mass traveled the length of the forms back only ending at the small of it. That back hunched over and the arms curved and hands rubbed at the closed eyes of the figure. Sleep was removed from the corners of those eyes and then those eyes slowly opened revealing a tint of light blue rimmed with dark. The dotted pupils of each eye seemed to be made out of specially crafted chisled ebony, smoothed and refined with such delicate care. Lids closed for a moment more before fully opening to reveal the stark beauty of those twin balls of human matter. A yawn interrupted the movement of such a pale face and then, with such fluidity the body swung its legs over the edge of that full size bed and stood on wobbly legs. For a moment it stood still trying its best to stay on the balls of its feet instead of its rear end; it succeeded and continued on in all its stark nakedness.

Soft light poured into the windows of that bedroom of minimal furnishings. Light from all directions it seemed, as all around there were windows and no solid walls to cover and protect what was on the other side from prying eyes. Although, it did, very well indeed do its job without the need for walls since there was a thin layer over the glass of each individual window that mirrored what was outside to the outside on-looker while the one on the inside could clearly look outside. That was why one could in all their nude glory walk through one's house without the fear of being seen in said glory. That is unless there were someone else inside the living quarters, but there wasn't. There was only one occupant living in the mirror house and that was Helena Nuary. A woman in her twenties with a slight boyish build with a big boned frame, clearly awkward with her five foot seven inch height. Never-you-mind for she was beautiful even with her faults and no one could touch her, or at least no one ever had. Maybe they wanted to and maybe they even tried, but Helena would have none of that and dismissed them with a cool glare that kept the predators paralized and confused long enough to make her exit.

Helena Nuary had no friends, not to say that she never had friends, she had some back in the day. Though, she realized through experience that friends were not an asset that she needed to survive, like most people her age. In her opinion, friends were things that she did not need and therefore were a complete waste of time for both her and the person involved this included relatives. On the subject of relatives, Helena would have cringed at the thought of who was related to her. Most of those people related to her by blood were either non-stop talkers and gossipers or arrogent men who treated woman as if they were the dirt under their feet. No, Helena did not get along well with her relatives, most conversations between her and those 'people' would end up in hurt feelings or a argument. As soon as she came of age, so to say, she hightailed it out of there and into a more quiet surrounding with virtually no clutter and all modern furnishings.

The past haunted her like a bad dream that would stick within one's mind for days on end wafting through the wrinkles of one's brain to pop up at any potential moment. Though it hadn't happened very often once exuberant amounts of time had passed. That time was a distance that she put between herself and the past and it wasn't as uncomfortable as before. Although one couldn't totally escape from one's past, now could they?

No one was scheduled to visit so when there was an abrupt knocking on the window pane of Helena's front door she jumped with surprise, then slipped on the soap she had droped within the tiny shower capsule. Helena had managed to catch herself half way before busting her rump on the cold fiberglass that her feet were currently using as leverage, but knew that a couple of muscles would be sore from strain later in the day if not sooner. Softly she cursed under her breath and stuck her head out of the opraqe sliding window door of the shower to irrately shout, "Who is it?"

No reply came to answer, and so she shouted louder, "Who is it?!" But there was no reply. Helena grumbled something under her breath only she would know the meaning of and grasped a towel within her long graceful fingers wraping the towel about her body loosely as she plod through her house leaving wet footprints and driplets as she made her way toward the only exit of her humble home.

There was a peek hole in the sand-blasted window pane that was held by a large ornate oak door that Helena peered out, but could see only a muddled form. She shrugged, mentally noting to clean the window later so that her vision would clearly see through the now dirty glass.

Helena's long fingers turned the lock to her front door slowly, then turned the handle just as slow before pulling the door a centemeter to peek out at the person on the other side that wanted her attention. "Who?" Was all she managed before the door was swung open with jolting ferocity.

***

Helena's eyes snapped open from where she lay spawled on her foyer floor with her towel draped over her nude body and the cold tile pressed into her back. Someone had intentionally thrown her back by kicking the door. Her vision trailed from the ceiling to the open door where a familliar face appeared before her eyes. She growled instantly at the sight, picked herself up from the floor cautiously as she did a damage assessment within her brain, and fully glared at the person before her.