The Heroes We Weren't

Chapter 10 - Adam

"Liz," the letters of her name gathered like a knot down my throat, "Lizzy."

I watched her as she worked - I watched her serve the costumers before making her way back to the counter. Her white dress along with her blonde hair made her stand out in the somewhat dark room. I watched her every step and movement and yet she couldn't return the act. She couldn't see me, couldn't acknowledge my desperate attempt to bond once more.

The little seen hope that rarely followed a time of grief now swallowed me whole. She was there, she was real, and so she must have been dreaming. A deceased mind doesn't imagine and so this was evidence enough for me that my friend was still very much alive.

"I'm going to find you." I reached my hand out to touch her shoulder, but pulled it back from a sudden sting.

Cold. She was cold, I was cold. I remembered the freezer, how my skin had stuck to my glasses and the pocket watch. There was a small burn by my fingertip, angrily red.

I placed my hand by the sleeve of my coat to roll it up; I grimaced at the red rashes and burns that found it fit to now slowly draw themselves onto my arm, as if I was but an empty canvas. One by one they appeared; the burns of a skin too cold. A small liquid filled bump then formed by my elbow, like a finishing dot to an undesired story.

The canvas erased; I had begun to fade as a sign of waking up. I was waking. I was leaving. One last glance at Lizzy assured me that everything would in fact be okay, for I would find her again, soon enough.

If my burns in the dream world could be categorized as pain, it was nothing compared to what met me as I had suddenly flung my eyes open. The first to greet me were Mister White Ceiling and Miss 'Itch your wounds I dare you'. At least the bed was comfortable. There were small rails by the side of my mattress and a curtain separated me from whoever was resting on the other side. Hospital. Of course.

I gave out a sigh as I turned my head on the fluffy pillow. Hyun-Soo was seated in a chair next to me, his full attention turned to his cellphone.

"Hey." I smiled, my voice seemed hoarse and my throat hurt.

He raised his chin, lowered his phone. Smiled. Words weren't needed, the exchanged gaze was enough to confirm that we were both there, real, and alive. I moved the slightest but cringed as I gazed down to my bandaged arm.

"Frostbite," he said as he rolled his sleeve up to reveal his own bruises, "I have them too."

Silence again. With a bit of effort, he got up from his chair to reach me a plastic bag. It rustled as I dug through it. A dress dropped onto my lap. A-line, white. Classy; the presidential housewife kind of classy.

I held it up with a slight frown, it was strikingly beautiful but needless to say not something that I would typically wear. Maybe for a visit to a royal family on a Sunday, but not for a hangout in a hospital on a Wednesday. It was that type of dress.

"Your friend said you can keep it." Hyun-Soo scoffed as he pointed to the shoes on his own feet. "Who wears Gucci anyway? I could pay my rent with these. Twice!"

I folded the dress on my lap. Gucci. Adam. Of course, who else would've chosen such a fancy wardrobe for me. Hyun-Soo's too big of a business suit told me that he, too, had been dressed by my friend.

"His name is Adam." I smiled, threw my legs over the edge of the bed and studied the dress once more; No tag, not new.

"Ah, the guy who sent you the pizza." Hyun-Soo nodded. "Well, our own clothes are pretty much torn; the doctors had to cut them to free our wounds." He sighed.