Who Am I? || Week 12

The hot sun beat down on the parched sands. As the slight breeze slipped across the desert the sand danced with it, twirling and pirouetting in the air. The dance would seem elegant, were you not caught up in it - and so the dance became more like that of a drunken uncle at a wedding - a source of intense discomfort. Fortunately she'd been doing this a long time. Goggles over her eyes and a scarf wrapped round her nose and mouth to keep the sand out. The sand still whipped against her arms as she sped across the sands, engine humming down below her, but it was a sensation she was used to.

The steady thrum of the motorbike engine was the only company she had, a satchel containing something so precious that she'd risked her life to obtain it resting against her back. The ride was peaceful, a sense of closure to the nightmare that had been the past two weeks. All she had to do was get back. Sooner rather than later, mind, but she could see the familiar humps of the dunes flying past. Nearly there...

The oasis came into sight in the distance, and she let out an exhilarated whoop, gunning the engine as she raced towards the finish line. Around the water's edge were several small fields that until two weeks ago had provided everything they had ever needed. She skidded the bike to a halt, sand flying from beneath the tyres. She left it as was - plenty of time to cover it up and protect it from the sand later - and dashed into the low, flat-roofed hut that was home.

"Hey sis," she called out to the figure sweating and shivering on the bed, "look what I got!" Her grin at this point threatened to split apart her face. The figure rolled over weakly, mouth gaping open when she saw what her sister had pulled out of the satchel. "But...how? How could you afford...?"

"Shhh. It doesn't matter. I got the medicine. You're gonna be ok." She gripped her sister's hands tightly, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. The ordeal, the worry, the stress...it was over. "Now come on, let's get some of this stuff down you."

Name: Delilah Twin

Age: 7

Gender: Female

Occupation: Store mannequin

Species: Object

Personality: Sassy

History:
Delilah was one of the two first black mannequins to ever be made. A revolution in equality, they said, she was the beginning of a new movement. They put her proudly onto the biggest, shiniest store front of their Clothing chain, the proof that time has indeed changed, and equality is around the corner. They even named her and her counterpart, the Delilah Twins.

But soon, the PR campaign lost its momentum and Delilah was reduced to a regular store mannequin. Her counterpart was broken by a clumsy clerk and was melted down for recycling. They also made several other mannequins just like her. She wasn't special anymore. Everybody forgot her name.

She was worn down by use and the owner threw her in a closet with all the other broken mannequins.

Equipment: Whatever clothes they put on her

Abilities and Skills:

• Masterclass posing
• Relentlessness
• Unblinking Championship
• Mannequin challenge championship

Strengths:

• Standing still

Weaknesses:

• Clumsy Clerks

Other: Somewhere along the way she also forgot her name