Pulse

beat seventeen

Nobody expected it so soon.

Eden woke up on the edge of Nana's bed, half hanging off. She was immediately blinded with the whiteness coming through the window, and for a split seconds, she actually thought she was seeing The Light. She shielded her eyes, standing up, her covered feet touching the carpet. She licked her dry lips, opening her eyes slowly, and letting out a sigh. She stretched her arms, her gaze landing upon the white rooftops seem from the window. She rushed to the window in excitement.

Wiping off the fog from the glass, she peeked out, white snowflakes making up the entire street, the rooftops in the distance, the lamps, the skies. Everything was very white, and she felt content. She opened the window, stretching her arm as far as she could, snow flakes gently touching her palm and instantly melting. She was cold, but she didn't notice it much, like she never did.

She laughed as the wind blew snowflakes onto her face, and all she wanted was to roll around in the whiteness. Closing the window, she rushed to Nana, not knowing how, but wanting to inform her that it finally snowed. But the snow was forgotten soon.

Eden walked towards her bed, sitting on the edge, where she had previously slept. She looked at her sleeping form, moving one strand of hair from her forehead, and hoping that the coldness of her hand would wake her up.

It didn't.

Eden figured she was probably tired, and contemplated on calling Ace, since they had an argument last night. He got angry, and she did too. It was silly, really; they argued about the silliest things. But then it turned serious.

"Don't you see that it's hard for me too, Eden?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything, Ace," she argued, glued to her spot in front of him. His eyes landed upon her, and she couldn't figure out what he was feeling from the short glance he spared her.

"I keep trying to get you to remember anything, but I can't, and it kills me, you have to see that this isn't hurting only you," he explained, desperately trying to prove his point.

"What do you want me to do, Ace? I cannot make myself remember whatever it is that you want me to remember. That part of my life is erased from my mind, and I don't even know if I want to remember it," she said before she thought it through. He looked at her, a little pained, but covered it up.

"You don't want to remember it?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know," she admitted. "All I want is just for things to take a turn, for anything to happen, and you can't push me to look at the past when I don't know which way it is I have to look."

"Then I won't influence you to do so," he said. His tone sounded final, and she didn't know what he wanted to say.

"It hurts, Eden. And I'm sorry that I have to be selfish. But maybe we both need distance right now," he said, hating that he said it.

"Maybe we do," she agreed, not really agreeing inside.

"Then let's distance ourselves for a while," he said, standing up, and she nodded.

"Distance," she repeated.

"Yeah," he said. And he left.

Eden sat on her grandmother's bed, deciding it was best to go with the plan. She shouldn't have gotten so attached to him, she knew it was wrong. Maybe distance is what she needed.

"It snowed, Nana," she whispered, waiting for her eyes to flutter open. It was like she waited for a warm smile to grace her grandmother's face, to tell her they would take a walk in the snow like they did, to rush to the window; she awaited for anything, even for a blink.