A/N: Hey! This is my first fanfic for Prison Break, but I wrote two stories before this one. I just recently started to watch the show and I love it! I thought of this character as Season 3 started, and so this fanfic is based on the beginning of season 3. I'm not sure if my character will turn into a villain or not but she is basically a parallel character to Michael Schofield. My character is Egyptian American named Naomi Mubarak, and the name Mubarak means "Blessed one" in Egyptian. Or sometimes Naomi Miller because of marriage. I REALLY would like feedback on the story, tell me if you like it or not. So please give me REVIEWS! It's the only for me to know if people are reading it. =) Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prison Break.

Preface

Her wild pitch black eyes lazily opened, as she heard the tiny drop of water fall into the sink. Another drop fell and after that another, it kept going, echoing in the plainly designed room. She sat up on her bed, and looked to her left to see her husband rhythmically sleeping. Glancing at her cell phone and its lit in a bright green light signifying that it's charging with big numbers telling her the time is 3:00 a.m. With a sigh, she tossed the simple black comforter away and stepped off the bed, deciding to shut the annoying drops of water. The carpet is white, thick, and fuzzy as her bare gentle feet steadily walked over it; the air is sweet just like sweet apple juice, with a warm atmosphere that accompanied the sweet feeling. She gingerly pushed the door of the bathroom open, stepping onto the glossy white marble floor. The light is flicked on and the bathroom became bathed in a rich glow of golden yellow light. She closed the door, and closed the faucet that was dropping water. Then she looked in the mirror, at her pitch glowing black eyes, and the equally long dark tangled frizzy hair. At her full bottom lip, and thin top lip that was sort of a combination of brown and red color, and her tanned straight face. She tentatively gripped the silver faucet and opened it to bring forth the shiny clear water. Washing her face with the cold water to rinse away the weary look she received when the mirror reflected her sleepy image. She closed the faucet then wiped her face on a clean soft towel. Fixed her tiny spaghetti strapped beige night gown and blew another weary sigh, then turned the light off.

She closed the door, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up, she didn't feel weary anymore. Something is amiss, the sweet feeling isn't there, she knew something's wrong. The room became creepily cold and quiet, her eyes became wide as she surveyed the dark room with bright red walls. Red marks on the white fluffy floor caught her attention and her dark eyes followed the trail of red, it went all the way to the white and black bed. The red substance is all over her sleeping husband, he wasn't sleeping she recognized as she peered closer. His neck is slit in the sleeping position; she did not move or try to breathe hard. She calmly walked to her phone, and discovered her phone is gone, then she walked to her husband's phone, it's also gone. This could possibly mean that someone is still within the house then she opened a drawer and pulled out her husband's pistol and tucked it safely in her gown. She did not try to seem panicked or let anyone know that she is still in the house; gingerly she walked out of the master bedroom. As soon as she walked down the dark hallway to the upstairs living room, she spotted a dark figure sitting relaxed in a lazy boy recliner beside a window. The window gave off a light bluish glow that outlined the left side of the culprit in the dark room. Judging by the way the person sat how comfortably he is on the recliner, he had been in the house for a while or he knew the house well. Somehow she knew that he was waiting for her, and she knew she could not get away from him in time before he caught her. She approached the culprit in the dark room, and didn't bother to turn on the light.

"Mrs. Miller! You are finally awake. Or is it Ms. Naomi Mubarak now, you know because of the divorce." The culprit said excitedly like he knew her, but Naomi had no idea who he is and how did he know about the divorce?

"Why did you kill my husband?" She asked bluntly trying hard not to seem a bit agitated that he knew her and she didn't know who he is.

"Such accusations? You should think a bit harder before making such painful assumptions." He said as if he was hurt by her blunt response, and if Naomi was any bit surprised she didn't show it, she couldn't let him see that she's afraid.

"It's quite obvious." She gripped the pistol a little harder, and thoughts rushed to her head, should she shoot or try to escape.

"You don't seem the least bit afraid, in fact your husband is dead and you don't seem a bit worried." He said in that cold calm voice that struck a nerve in her but she didn't let her expressions show.

"What do you want from me?" She told him in that same cold calm he gave to her, and he almost laughed.

"Ah, you scare me at times, a perfect strong woman you are Naomi." He gave his little evil snicker that sort of mocked her, she knew then that talking to him would get her nowhere instead she blocked out all of his talking and focused more intently on the window to the left that gave off that bluish hue to the room.

"You have a mask and a hat on there is no way for me to identify you." She remarked taking note that the blue hue outlined the hat and mask that the masked man wore, and he nodded his agreement with the assertion.

"Quite the witty person you are too, I would have thought you would have called the cops by now." She thought of the pistol, and the thought of why didn't she call the cops. Because the phones were gone, so why wasn't the pistol gone also. Probably he took the bullets from the pistol in order to fool her, well a weapon is still a weapon, she thought.

"You took the phones remember?" Naomi thought of the window again, and remembered that right under that particular window is a pool, the formations of a plan developed in her mind. She bit her bottom lip, and gripped the pistol tighter and pulled it from her nightgown aiming at him.

"You're going to shoot me? We haven't even discussed our future." She didn't even pay attention to his next words, she only thought of her next action. With the pistol in her hand she flicked her wrist and threw the pistol unexpectedly towards the culprit making him catch the missile but she didn't aim to hit him. In that same motion she ran in full speed, covering her head with her arms and ran through the window. Shattering a million glasses as she tucked in her legs to her stomach falling two stories and there was no way the visitor would have ever caught her in time. The shiny glasses twinkled around her as she canon balled the swimming pool. She hit the cold water hard, but had no time to recuperate from the fall, as far as she knew the man is already in the backyard. She quickly swam through the freezing waters, to go on the equally freezing cement. Not thinking clearly, all Naomi wanted to do is escape this. Her damp feet slapped the cold cement hard, as she gripped the black bars of the gate. With surprising strength and quickness she hauled herself over the barred fence, and quickly ran to the middle of the road, to see nobody. No cars and she felt that grudging feeling that the unknown man is behind her. She bolted down the street not thinking twice, she began to scream out "Help!" Finally, she came to a main street out of the neighborhood. She screamed at the top of her lungs in the freezing night, as she is damp from head to toe. Shivering and a few splinters on her feet, she looked over her shoulder constantly as if expecting the murderer to be behind her. She went back to looking forward, and she almost got ran over by a police officer. Hands on the hood of the cop car as if to try to stop the car, she breathed a sigh of relief. The officer looked at her puzzlingly and stepped out of his car while adjusting his badge.

"Ma'am, what seems to be the problem?" He asked still chewing his gum like a cow.

"There's a murderer in my home and he killed my husband!" Her hands shivering she repeatedly pointed to the general area of her home with her eyes open through fear rimming her eyelids.

"Ok calm down – "

"No no I can't! He's there still! Please go there now." She pleaded frantically, and the man looked at her hard and slightly titled his head to speak to the tiny walky-talky.

"I need some back-up at Mrs. Miller's house; possible murder suspect still may be in the home." He straightened his head and signaled her to get inside his car.

…

The house is not dark anymore, now it is surrounded by glowing golden atmosphere of light. Almost everything in the house was exactly how it was when she and her husband went to sleep that night. And she knew that the master bedroom was drenched in blood as she guided the police officer to the room.

There is no blood to be found in the room, looked cleaned up, but what confused her most was that the body on the bed is in the middle with his legs closed and arms crossed over his chest. And he is covered head to toe with a thin white blanket, when she left he was not in that position or covered. The features of the body under the blanket were like a woman's such as a feminine shaped body with hips and breasts. This is a woman under the blanket, not her husband, how could that even be possible. The officer motioned that he will take the blanket off, and tentatively approached the blanket side that covered the face. He gingerly pulled the blanket enough to just show the face, except it wasn't a face, it is a mask. The mask sort of looked like a clown, with a twisted kind of sadistic smile pasted on the mask. It was pale, however there was red painted lips, pink blush, green eye shadow, and blue eyes with spiky bloody painted teeth, sort of looked like a bad make up job. There is hair, long flowing hair sprawled on the pillow its wavy rosy blonde hair. The officer took off the mask and revealed a beautiful young woman. Full rosy lips, with pink blushes, green eye shadow, and pale skin, but what captivated them was her icy crystal eyes that is wide open, which led them to see the small bullet hole in the middle of her forehead.

"What is the meaning of this!" The baffled officer yelled at Naomi, not sure of what to make of the entire scene that unraveled.

"I – I don't know." She admitted equally baffled as the officer. "I came out of the bathroom and my husband was dead and there was a man inside my home – "

"This is a trick isn't it?"

"Why would I trick the LAPD, have I ever done that?"

"Miller and you were having problems." He accused and Naomi rolled her eyes at the statement.

"This is going nowhere, there is someone out there who killed my husband, why won't you believe me, go out there and find him!" She screamed at the officer as the sirens continued to roar, crowds gathered around the house, and the bright orange yellow sun began to rise. She couldn't believe that the officer didn't believe her words, and she watched fearfully as the officer began to pull out his gun. She closed her eyes trying to forget everything, and then she heard a loud bang. Immediately, she opened her eyes to utter shock as the officer lay on the ground. Blood spurred out from his head accompanied by a huge hole. Her breathing became heavy as she witnessed murder and can only think that she is next. Without another thought she rushed to the door but is grabbed roughly by a set of hands. The arm went immediately around her neck, and she gasped trying to clutch it.

"Listen to me." The man said in low calm voice that terrified her.

"Who are you!" She felt a sharp pain as the person poked a hand gun in her ribs.

"There are police officers out there not that different from this cop, and they will come to the same conclusion." Naomi was about to say something but she was kept quiet by a nudge. "Now, you have three murders on your hand which includes a police officer." She wanted to deny his allegations but she couldn't because it's true she's the only suspect. "I can help exonerate you if you help me." He said slowly so she could digest every syllable, but she didn't understand. How can she help him? "Come with me to a harbor." He said, and this confused her even more.

"Where to?"

"Panama."

….

She constantly looked back and forth in suspicion as she precariously thought to herself about the situation at hand. She had fled the scene of three consecutive homicides, and she is the prime suspect in all of it. A bead of sweat slowly slid down her forehead to touch her thinly shaped dark eye brow. The tapping sound that emitting from her finger nails which kept clawing at the wooden counter caught the attention of many onlookers. Not wanting to draw any attention to herself she quickly withdrew her hand. She swallowed slowly trying to adjust to everything, continuously over the past day she kept second guessing herself. She followed this wild goose chase all the way to Panama. Following a promise that she will be exonerated from the murders if she did one thing, but she still didn't know what this one thing is. As soon as she got to Panama the man that held her hostage told her to meet this woman at a bar and from there she will receive orders. Waiting in this bar seemed ridiculous, it's been an hour! A smooth but very firm hand gripped her shoulder that made her jump from her seat then the hand slapped against her mouth.

"Relax." The woman with the firm hand said as she slid her hand away. "Naomi, isn't it?" She assured again, and Naomi nodded. Naomi never left her gaze from the mysterious woman, something is off about this woman she seemed too controlled.

"What do you want from me?" The first thing that burst through her mouth and the women simply coldly smirked at her.

"Like I said, relax." Naomi felt increasingly angry at this woman's antics, how can she relax when she is a wanted woman. Reading the expression on Naomi's desperate face she slowly put a hand on her shoulder ushering her to sit on the stool. "My name is Susan." She grinned casually, but Naomi hardly cared for her name. "Do you remember Michael Scofield?" She asked with the grin and immediately Naomi's desperation turned into shock. Last time she heard of Michael is that he escaped prison, but what does that have to do with anything. Naomi was about to say something, but no words came out before Susan continued to talk. "He's in the Panama jail known as Sona." The puzzlement still is pasted on Naomi's face but Susan knew better. "You know him, Naomi." She said trying to prompt Naomi's recognition but Naomi's expression turned to ice coldness.

"I know he is a fugitive." She said in utter poison as she folded her arms. "And if you are asking me to aid him-"

"That's precisely what you are going to do-"

"Then you can forget it!" She proclaimed as she stood up from her chair ready to leave, but she is caught by the arm from Susan.

"I didn't want to come to this." She said and Naomi looked at in her perplexity as she pulled out a picture. Naomi's eyes immediately widened looking at the two ragged people chained to chairs, one is a woman with dark hair and eyes like Naomi's and another is a little girl. She began to tremble, and her knees felt weak as she dreadfully tried to reach out to the picture. Susan viciously kept the picture out of Naomi's reach.

"Tamini..Gemma." She whispered to herself.

"If you want to see them again, then you will break Michael Schofield and James Whistler out of Sona." Naomi hardly paid attention to her words as she focused on Tamini and Gemma, forget about the murders on her hands. If anything happens to those two then she will never be able to forgive herself. This is all because she knows Scofield, how is this fair? Her whole life is ruined because of one person, and she swears that she will take revenge on him if it's the last thing she does.