[h1][color=black][i]Acadia[/i][/color][/h1]
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[color=#888888]Acadia walked home from work, at the exact same time as every other day. The exact same route. Holding a white bag containing todays dinner; Chow mein with a side of shimp dumplings. The same dishes he's been eating every day the past 6 years. She was close to her front door when she had this feeling someone was watching her. She never felt like she stood out, not since she washed ashore in Brazil.

She finally reached the steps of her apartment where she leaned to the side to look into the narrow window next to her door, making sure no one was inside her pretty much minimalistic grey apartment. There wasn't much room to hide unless you knew the apartment. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly, not making a sound. She jumped as a letter fell down over her feet, reflecting in her shiny black pumps. A letter with her "Acadia" written on. This gave her chills through her spine. Why would anyone address her Acadia, a name she hadn't used in [i]at least[/i] a century. Why would she get a letter at all? Living a very A4 life she knew exactly what letters to expect at exact dates and today was not one of those days. Neither did she talk to anyone except her co-workers(at work, only) and Miss Meixiu from the Chinese place. She picked the letter up with quivering hands, took a second look around the block before going inside. The main room was dim, grey with some black and white accents. Very modern, straight lines, minimal decoration. She wasn't gonna read the letter, not yet. 

Shortly after she had a big glass of high quality red wine. Over the past centuries she had acquired a taste for expensive wine. She brought the letter with her to the artistic/minimalistic (quite uncomfortable) couch where she opened the letter with 18th century knife. The shock of the letters struck her like a lightning, and both the glass of red and the letter shortly fell to the floor. The letter soaked in wine within seconds. [/color] [color=black]Who is this Oscar, how does he know? Is there more people like me? Why is this happening?[/color] [color=#888888] These were few of many thoughts haunting Acadias space. She'd been so good at hiding her tracks, disappearing. Being anonymous. That was her skill. She hadn't let anyone close since late 1600's and they were.. Well.. Dead. So really, she had thousands of questions. 

This went waaaay way way out of her comfort zone. She was even uncomfortable taking a new route to work, or when Miss Meichiu was out of Chow Mein. But if she didn't go to Seattle she wouldn't get peace. Not only would she be reported but she'd have all these questions left unanswered. She packed her briefcase. All her clothes were different variants of office clothing. Semi-sexy but yet modest. Mostly grey, black and white.[/color]