<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn1.gossipcenter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/story_header/photos/natalie-portman-topless-ad-dior.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Natalie Brewster</span><br/><strong>Age:</strong>19<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>acquitted of first degree murder by  reason of insanity<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Inside the Deli,  moving from the bathroom to the small office, second floor<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Group 2, Sarah, Drake and Brazil<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Natalie was unaware just how long she had been staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had zoned out and become lost in her own mind. It wasn’t the best place to be. It was filled with insecurities and harsh whispered insults and always, at the back of her mind, was a deep voice urging her to commit acts she would have never considered before. The image of the girl in the mirror haunted Natalie. It wasn’t the smiling, pretty face she was accustomed to. Instead it was the image of a young woman beaten down by life. Her once sparkling, honey brown eyes were now steeped in sorrow, an emotion Natalie feared that could never be comforted. She wasn’t the same girl she had been only a few months prior. She wasn’t even the same girl she had been a few hours prior, before the fire. That girl still refused to believe she had taken a life. This new girl, the one with the haunting eyes, the one filled with sorrow, that girl was standing on the edge of madness.  She had a voice buried in her conscious telling her to hurt those around her, and what was worse, she had listened to it!  It was only a matter of time before it commanded her to strike again. <br/><br/>A gasp caught in her throat, brought forth by a sudden piercing sting that shot through her arm, causing the timid brunette to glance down at her trembling hands. When had she reached for a glass? Natalie had no memory of doing so, not to mention squeezing it so hard that is shattered in her hands, lodging a sliver of glass into the palm of her hand.  Her mouth dropped open, forming a soft o-shape, as she watched, fascinated with the dribble of blood running over the bright white fabric of the protective bandage.  Natalie continued to watch as the droplet of blood flowed over onto the shell of the sink, running in a tiny narrow rivulet. Her eyes widened when it suddenly swirled, creating elegant letters in large calligraphy shapes. She knew what she was seeing was impossible. She knew it had to be a trick of her mind, yet she was unable to turn away. The stream of blood moved as fluidly as ink, forming letters that soon formed a single word. “Murder” <br/><br/>The cry for help that followed came in a slight delay as Natalie first opened her mouth releasing a silent scream. The sound of terror, frustration and confusion slowly built into a screech, a screech that tore through her tight throat and rushed through her ears like a speeding train. Reacting through instinct, Natalie reached for the taps, turning the faucets viciously, almost breaking the hot water handle in her haste. She submerged her hands into the flow of hot water and began scrubbing, showing her tender skin no mercy. <strong>”I didn’t kill her! I didn’t kill anyone!”</strong> she mumbled repeatedly as she continued to scrub at the blood staining her skin and the once white fabric of the bandage. Her caramel colored eyes widened in panic as the red stain grew, coating every inch of her red, sore hands. <strong>”NO! NO! NO!”</strong> Natalie whimpered, nearing hysteria, determined to wash the blood from her hands.<br/><br/>Had anyone come to her aid they would have been as confused as she would soon be. For there wasn’t a single blood stain on her fingers, her palms, or the bandage now soggy from the punishing treatment.  The glass that she had thought to have broken was made from cheap plastic, and remained on its side upon the bathroom floor where it had fallen when she had accidently dislodged it from the tiny counter. The incident, like many she had experienced since the the day she had been found holding the blood covered steel rod, would remain a mystery, brought on by the stress of her situation, or so the doctors had kept telling her. However, no one could ever explain the haunting, and evil laughter that rang out whenever the voice chose to use her mind as its personal playground.<br/><br/>Shaken, Natalie clung to the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white with the effort, and took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the steam that clung to the air in clouds of moisture. No one had come running at the sound of her scream leaving Natalie to wonder if she had even released the terror from her lungs at all. Perhaps the others simply did not care? Closing her eyes, Natalie pushed away from the sink and with trembling legs, walked down the short hallway towards the small office where the others were gathered.  Quietly she stood within the doorway, holding her hand; cradling it with the other and watched Brazil, Drake and Sarah crowd around the computer screen. </div>