Stealing Snow

SEVEN

Even though I could barely see in the dark, I grabbed my sketchbook and started to draw the boys face. I wanted to get it all down, every detail. Whether it was in my head or not, I didn't want to forget him. As the line of his jawline appeared from underneath my fingers, I shuddered. He called me ‘princess'. Whatever the reason why I didn't like it.

I had been called worse, and I had earned every nickname with my words and my teeth. I looked down at the sketch again. Recording my dreams on paper was my own personal exorcism. Afterward, I had always felt free from whatever had haunted me the night before. But this time when I looked at the picture of the boy, I felt like he was staring back at me.

I must have fallen asleep like that, staring at my handy-work. Because the next thing I knew I was waking up to the sound of the door opening. Daylight was streaming through the barred window. Vern was holding the pill tray. The thought of the boy last night came to me, I snapped the sketch pad shut. I had fallen asleep with the charcoal clutched in my hand. I didn't know if he was a patient or an orderly, or if sleepy had concocted straight from my imagination and put him in my dreams. Either way, I wasn't ready for Vern or anyone else to see the sketches of him.

"You're up already, that's a first"

"it was a grand central station in here last night," I said, thinking about the orderly again

She raised an eyebrow

"Dr. Harris stopped by, and a guy who dubbed me a princess"

"princess, huh" Vern snorted "Yardley, your as much royalty as I am," she said it almost affectionately, but then she held out the tray that had the days pills, and I thought about what the boy had said. Even if he was just a figment of my imagination, maybe my sub-conscious was telling me that enough is enough. I knew each pill did something different. But eventually the effects wore off, and Dr. Harris would start something new. My medication changed more than most. We patients would compare sometimes. chord and wing were almost always on sleepy, it kept them in place. for Wing, it kept her from flying. it kept Chord from blinking through time. sometimes Dr. Harris added happy because there was a lot of depression involved with not getting to go where he wanted. I assume dr. harris was trying to get the right combination that would level me off. make me normal. stop all the anger and put my monster to sleep. but what if what the boy said was true? what if the drugs were masking everything and not solving anything? the idea of giving up all the drugs terrified me. I hadn't been completely clean since-- actually for as long as I could remember.

"which of the seven dwarfs is it today," I asked, assuming the answer had to be dopey. given my behavior yesterday, my mum's visits and my sleepy dose last night, I was sure to rest was the continuing prescription of the day.

but this pill was new, it was black with little, tiny dots. I wanted to recoil, ask Vern what was in it, to refuse to take it. but if I did that, they would make me take it, or worse they would give me a shot of it straight to my veins. so I hid my reaction and pretended everything was normal. instead of swallowing the pill, I slipped it under my tongue and I could feel it threatening to melt. the plastic casing melted and I waited for Vern to check my mouth. she barely looked, either because she trusted me or because I had never skipped a pill before.

when she glanced out the window and said

"look at that! we weren't supposed to have snow today"

I spit the pill into my palm. she looked back at me, expecting a response about the weather.

I shrugged and felt a twinge of something---not guilt--- but a shift in our dynamic. I had a secret. I hadn't said a word but it was the first lie between me and Vern in ages-- maybe ever.

hiding the pill in my pocket, I took my sketch pad and we silently marched to the common room. it was time for the end of almost. Vern turned on the television and took a seat next to me. we settled into watching her story, and I realized at some point that it had become part of mine, too. the lives on screen were a window to another world where anything could happen--even the impossible. today the show was focused on the family's matriarch, Rebeca Gershon, she was like a chameleon and could make herself into whoever she needed to be to get what she wanted. she had as many careers as husbands, and she was currently working on love #7. the characters vacillated between good and evil and back again. it was a world that wasn't real, but also one filled with forgiveness and second chances. by comparison, I hadn't even had my first job or been on an actual date.

"why doesn't Rebeca just tell the soldier guy how she feels"

I knew his name was Lucus. I liked to pretend that the stories meant more to Vern than they did to me. but I knew every detail, every subplot and history, and twist and turn from Rebeca's first husband to her tenth, and I was pretty sure that Lucas was the one true love for Rebeca. he wasn't as handsome as some of her past lovers, but he was the first one to love her unconditionally. only he could not say what was so completely obvious to me and Vern.

"sometimes saying something is harder than not saying it. you wouldn't know because you have no filter, but out there in the real world most people are afraid to say what's really on their minds."

it sounded like Vern was calling me brave--or crazy--maybe they were the same thing.

I wondered about Vern's life outside this place. I knew she had a husband and a kid who smiled at me from her smartphone. tall, but not Vern tall. and the way Vern looked at Rebeca and Lucus on TV made me wonder if there was a lost love in her past--someone who would've altered the course of her everything. and just as the idea floated through my brain, another thought popped up: the boy. not that he was really going to alter the course of my everything. he was just a new shade of crazy I hadn't seen before.

I picked up the sketchbook and began to finish drawing the boy from last night.

"who's that," Vern asked during a commercial break

"the new orderly" I was testing her for information

"he's cute, but he doesn't work here. you didn't actually see him" Vern asked pointedly

I shrugged "guess it was a dream".

&*&

I was at home in my mother's room staring into the full-length mirror by her dressing table. suddenly Becky appeared. she smiled and shook her pigtails--but something was wrong. she was covered in blood. when I looked back at the mirror, it was broken and I was covered in blood, too. beyond the shattered glass, I saw a giant tree glistening in the snow. next to it was the boy from last night. instead of wearing a stolen white coat, he had on a black leather jacket, a white top with ripped jeans. a grey satchel was slung across his chest. he waved to me.

I pulled Becky's arm

"we have to go," I said

but she wouldn't budge. I pulled again and looked back at her, but then she was gone and bale had taken her place.

"bale" I breathed

it had been so long since I last saw him since I touched him. I looked down at my hand around his wrist. he was covered in blood, too.

"you're hurt," I said, inspecting him closer

but he took both of my hands, and entwined his fingers in mine. he was okay. he looked at me, really stared, his long eyelashes almost distracting me from the dark ember of his eyes.

"I can't go with you" bale finally said

I turned back to the mirror and saw the orderly boy still waving. the tree towered over him and on the ground around him, people were kneeling, heads bowed in my direction. I wanted to go, but Bale wouldn't move.

"I can't," Bale said more firmly

so I pulled him toward the mirror, as hard as I could, and he let go of my hands. I stumbled back, expecting to stumble into the cracked glass, but instead, I felt the air. cold air.

I found my footing again and looked to bale, but when I turned around to face him, he was on fire.

*&*

I screamed myself awake and I knew that I had to see bale. tonight.