Corrupting Winter

Chapter 2: Winter

The doors hiss open, and a wave of warm, stale air hits me. It feels almost like a miracle against my freezing skin.

I step onto the bus, my wet boots squeaking against the rubber floor. After scanning my card, I look around for somewhere to stand. My body is still shaking a little as I try to warm up.

The bus is surprisingly crowded for this time of night. Everyone looks exhausted, staring down at their phones with their coats pulled tightly around them. Nobody talks.

I find an empty seat near the back and quickly slide into it, pulling my damp backpack against my chest.

The bus jerks forward, disappearing into the heavy snowfall. I let out a breath, realizing I’ve been holding it since I first arrived in this city.

The heater underneath my seat hums quietly, slowly warming me and melting the tiny ice crystals caught in my hair.

The driver’s voice crackles through the speaker, calling out each stop as we make our way through the dark streets. Neon signs glow through the snow, their colors blurring together whenever I look through the fogged-up window.

Eventually, the bus screeches to a stop.

My stop.

I step outside and immediately regret it.

The cold hits me all over again. I pull my hood over my head and start walking through the freezing slush.

It’s only a short walk down a narrow side street lined with old brick buildings before I finally reach my destination.

My apartment.

Calling it an apartment is probably being generous.

It’s a tiny studio at the top of a steep flight of stairs. The wallpaper is peeling in a few places, and the radiator makes a weird clanking sound that honestly makes the place feel haunted.

I unlock the door and step inside, flipping on the single light hanging from the ceiling.

The room is almost completely empty.

There’s my suitcase, a mattress on the floor, and a small wooden chair. That’s about it.

The place smells like old dust and cold rain.

I drop my heavy bag onto the floor and finally take off my wet jacket. My fingers are still numb from the cold.

Then I look toward the small window.

In the distance, the city skyline glows against the dark sky.

For a moment, I just stand there and stare.

It’s small.

It’s empty.

But it’s mine.