Stealing Snow

SIX

I was in my room at Whittaker. It was dark, and I was staring into a hand mirror encircled in metal and decorated with symbols and strange writing along the sides. There was a giant, silver looking tree with strange markings all along the sides, it seemed to take up the whole reflection. In front of the tree, there was me.

“bale” I whispered, he was usually in my dreams. But lately he’d been missing. It was cruel that I didn’t get to see him, even in my sub-conscious.

“im here, snow” he called, his voice hoarse like he’d been crying or screaming.

“behind the tree” my reflection in the mirror smirked at me, even though my face hadn’t moved a muscle. The “me” in the mirror raised her arms, even though my own remained at my side. The arms reached for me, when suddenly one of them pulled back to punch.

“no snow don’t” bale cried out, but I couldn’t see him, and I couldn’t stop what happened next when my reflections fist collided with the mirror. I covered my face as glass landed on the floor around me. I examined myself for scratches, but somehow none of the shards had touched me. Then almost against my will, I picked up the pieces and began assembling them into something, despite the fact that my hands stung, and every movement drew blood. I placed my handy work on top of my head, ignoring the pain. I had made a crown that shimmered like ice, a drip of blood ran down its side.

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I woke up with the sound of a knock at the door, no one ever knocked at Whittaker.

Then the door opened, it was Dr. Harris.

This had to be bad. The good doctor didn’t make room visits. did Vern get in trouble for letting me watch TV after I hurt magpie? I wondered. I mentally patted myself on the back for thinking of someone else first. There was no seven-dwarf pill for empathy. My concern for Vern was genuine. Dr. Harris had said empathy was good. Little did he know I was already putting what I had done to magpie in my rear-view mirror. She had come after me in the visitors lounge. She had given bale matches. She had added to bales fire. That girl was a b***h, and everyone knew it. She deserved what she got.

“I heard magpies fine” I said preemptible

Dr. Harris wore glasses and had a little crease between his stark green eyes that always seemed to stare for a little bit too long. Not in a creepy way, but in an ‘I want to find out how you tick’ kinda way.

I wasn’t used to him being in my space or standing upright. He was supposed to be in his office behind a desk, not moving more than an eyebrow.

“im here to check on you” Dr. Harris said curtly. “tell me about what happened”

“magpie came at me and I gave it right back. I barely touched her, there’s no way I pushed her hard enough to be paralysed, even temporarily. She must have been faking it”

“the doctor says she’s fine, Ophelia does tend to lean toward the dramatic. But im more concerned about you, you got angry. We’ve talked about this, you need to learn to control it and express it in safe ways, without making it a physical thing” he said

He waited for me to say something, but I had nothing to add. This was exactly the conversation I expected to be having, I just didn’t expect it to be in my room.

“im going to try something new with your therapy, you know we couldn’t even keep you in this ward if you had actually…” he trailed off

Killed magpie, I thought, that’s what he was going to say.

“there isn’t anything beyond ward D” I reminded him, what more could they do to me

“if something had actually happened tonight, the state would have taken you away from me, away from Whittaker criminal charges could’ve been pressed, do you understand?”

I nodded

“don’t worry snow, we’ll keep you here. Where you belong” he almost looked sincere “im going to start you on a new protocol tomorrow”

I gritted my teeth, another cocktail.

He walked further into the room, holding a white cup to me. I hadn’t even seen it in his hand.

“in the meantime, you need rest, good rest”

I noticed 2 whitecoatses just outside the door, watching, waiting. Just in case things got out of hand. I guess Dr. Harris was more worried about what I did to magpie than I thought.

“go on” he said, rattling the pill inside the cup.

I snatched it from his hand and looked inside. The little blue and yellow powdered pill I call sleepy stared up at me. Just looking at it drained all the anger right out of me. And I kinda wanted that pill, I was really tired.

“thatta girl” said Dr. Harris as I swallowed the pill and laid back down on my pillow.

I was already starting to fade out by the time he closed my door. But before I fell asleep, I couldn’t help but hear Dr. Harris’ voice vibrating through my head. We’ll keep you here, where you belong.

He was wrong, Whittaker wasn’t my home. No one deserved to be locked up forever. What was the point of life then? Didn’t he want me to get better?

I didn’t know where I belonged, but it wasn’t here.

Later, the door to my room opened in the middle of the night, pulling me out of a deep sleep. At first, I thought it was Vern doing spot checks. It wasn’t. even in the cloudy, drug educed haze, I could see the boy standing by my bed. He had light brown hair that partly covered his eyes and dusted his shoulders, curling slightly at the edges. His features were soft, light eyebrows small nose, full lips. But I could see a sharp jawline as his face jutted into a moonbeam that had fallen like a spotlight. His eyes glowed a silvery grey in the near darkness.

“you’re awake” He said, I noticed he was wearing an orderlies whitecoat that was a size to big for him. We made eye contact “is it really you”

Though I felt my heartbeat pick up, my body still remained heavy and sluggish. There was a million things wrong with someone other than Vern was in my room at night. First and foremost, he was not an adult: he was a boy. He looked near my age, give or take a few months. Plus, Whittaker night checks were cut down to strictly same gender, so there would be no inappropriacy. Some inmates didn’t have boundaries in that department.

Some whitecoats didn’t either.

I watched the boy take a step closer. The hairs on my arms stood up, and everything in my body told me to be on guard. There was something about him, something more about him that demanded attention. He looked like he had stepped out of the end of almost. How was it possible that someone that looked like this was in my room? This boy was almost aerodynamic, like a shiny sports car. Even wearing that oversized whitecoat, I could tell there was no amount of flesh or muscle misused. He was just as thin as bale, who had grown out of the skeleton like child he was and has turned into something completely different. But bales lines were softer because he was locked in his room most of the time. I had looked down and caught a glimpse of his shoes. They were shiny and black, the kind you wear to an interview or to a party, or a wedding—not to a crazy girls room in the middle of the night.

I finally pushed myself up in bed.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” he said in a whisper “when I got a signal that magic was being used here, I had no idea it would lead me to you of all people.”

Magic, had he just said magic?

His hair fell over one of his eyes as he leaned into my personal space.

Most people at Whittaker—if they knew anything—knew not to get that close after the Hannibal incident with Vern. But sleepy had made my wits slow, instead of biting him, I closed my eyes in a drawn-out blink.

“there you are, I see you under all those drugs. Don’t you want to come out and play, snow”

Who was this guy. I stared off toward the wall and refocused, trying to shake off the drugs.

“fine, just listen. The pills that Dr. Harris is giving you aren’t helping you. They’re hiding you from what you’re meant to be and who you’re meant to be. They’re hiding you from your destiny, stop taking them. Start feeling everything. And when you are clean, come to me. I’ll be waiting on the other side of the tree”

He stood up straight and crossed his arms, the room was still cloudy around him.

This guy I’ve never met wants me to leave and go where?

Bale used to talk about running away, and sometimes I would indulge the idea. But the truth was, deep down I was always worried I would end up face first in a mirror again. And bale would burn down whatever house we were in. now I regret never trying, for him. For us. If I was going to escape it would be with bale, not this incredibly cute stranger. Snap out of it, he’s not cute.

My lips and voice finally decided to work “I could yell right now, and whitecoats would be here in 60seconds.” I said, thinking about the panic button behind my bed. There was one in every patients room. I had never pushed it for a real emergency, only once when I pressed it for a prank.

The boy was undaunted by my challenge, he didn’t move a muscle.

“you could have called for help, but you didn’t. and besides, I am the help”

“who are you” I asked

“who you are is what mattes, princess”

I had been called a lot of things at Whittaker, ‘princess’ was never one of them.

He saw that he had my full attention. A smile spread across his face, he was pleased. Then he bent down, closer.

“you need to leave this place, princess” he said “its breaking your spirit, the gate on the north side will open for you. Head north until you see the tree”

“the tree” I asked, I thought of the tree from my dreams.

“you’ll know it when you see it. I promise, when you get to the tree, I’ll be waiting on the other side and they’ll kneel to you.”

“what are you talking about? and why do you keep calling me princess, I am NO ONES princess”

“you really don’t know who you are” he said solemnly “they’ve dulled you magic and your wits.”

“what the hell” I snapped. Sleepys effects were starting to wane, and this guy’s riddle were starting to piss me off. He was clearly a new patient off his meds.

“just remember the tree”

I started to sit up farther, ready to show this guy what type of princess I really am. Then the boy abruptly turned around and walked towards the plastic mirror on my closet. And he did something that stopped me cold. He stepped right through it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my palms into them. This was a dream. Yes, it would b one of my weirdest dreams yet. But still, it has to be a dream.

I opened my eyes again. They adjusted to the dark quickly this time. The room looked normal. No strange boy to be seen. But when I stared into the mirror next to my desk, I swear I saw the silhouette of a boy in an oversized white coat, growing smaller and smaller. Receding in the reflection. In the background there was an outline of a large tree, the tree. When I blinked again, the boy and the tree were gone.