Sub Zero

Chapter Twenty Three

I've decided to give up on the hope that I have left. Finn isn't coming for me. He's too good to be true. So, as I lay on the gurney and stare at the wall, I let go.

The darkness that intertwined with the edge of my sanity is given an opportunity to take over, and it doesn't hesitate. It seeps into the dull golden light that was once brilliant and blinding. It smothers out the fading brightness that was my joy, my hope, and even my sanity.

My eyes snap open. "What am I doing?" I inwardly scream. "This isn't the best option. I need to wake up!"

I sigh, loudly. This place really has taken its toll on me. It's trying to take over my sanity, and chip away at me like the paint on these walls.

I roll off the gurney and walk over to the mirror. I dunk my head under the sink faucet, turn the knobs, and wet my hair with warm water. I turn the water off, look up, and see my pale reflection in the mirror. I comb my frail fingers through my dripping white locks, and realize just how tangled and matted they are. "Why is there even a sink in here?" I mutter bitterly.

After about ten minutes of carefully combing my hair, my long curls fall to the middle of my lower back. Water  soaks through my thin gown. I shiver, which is actually rare since I've almost become immune to the cold.

Cold. I frown as I sense something familiar about the word. I feel like I'm connected to it. But why, and how?

Then it clicks. I laugh dryly. "Oh, yeah. I remember now."

I glance at my fingers and silently urge my powers to take effect. The tiniest bit of frost accumulates, but it's enough. I try harder, and manage to create a small mound of snowflakes on the linoleum. They quickly melt.

Lately I've been forgetful about my powers, and it's starting to worry me. I do vaguely remember being slipped something before I was brought here. Or, maybe, the therapists are actually succeeding in their brainwashing.

Whatever it is, it's scaring me. My powers are what makes me different, what makes me, well, me. If it wasn't for my gift, I wouldn't have met Finn. And I would've given up if I hadn't have met him.

I strip my gown off, leaving myself in my underwear. I run a corner of the white fabric under the water faucet, and begin to scrub my arms and legs. We take showers regularly, but I want to feel like I'm completely clean.

After I closely inspect myself, and find satisfaction in my appearance, I slip my gown back over my head and immediately cringe as I think of the dirt and grime that could be sticking itself to my pale skin. It's a silly thought because we get a clean gown each day, but I still feel dirty.

I look at myself in the mirror once again. I turn around, looking at my butt. I proceed to inspect my body from every angle.

I realize that I really don't look like a skeleton. I look like I've always wanted to look; slim hips, a small bust, a tiny waist, and a flat stomach. But I don't look this way because I want to. That must be why I feel so gross.

If I regain a few pounds, then I might actually be fit to be a model. I laugh aloud at the thought, and clamp my hand over my mouth in surprise. The old, familiar sound rings off of the walls and echoes for a bit before fading away and leaving silence in its place.

I almost feel happy. That laugh was actually real, not forced or dry. The only time I laugh like this is when Mrs. Inoue visits me. Am I becoming myself again?

A knock sounds at the door. I scurry back to the gurney and shrink beneath the sheets. I suddenly wonder why the visitor knocked. People usually just barge in without any thought of my privacy rights, and are announced with the buzzing and clicking of the door.

The sounds do come, however, and the door pops open to reveal a doctor with a cap concealing his hair and a mask covering his mouth and nose. He quickly slams the door behind him and makes sure it locks. A spike of fear shoots up my spine as I realize that he's dressed in surgery attire. "Is he going to operate on me? But why here? And why is he acting so rushed?"

"You're coming with me. No questions asked." He says, his voice muffled. His words startle me. His voice sounds l familiar. It could just be the mask door disorienting the sound, though. "What do you want?" I demand, my voice cracking with fear and curiosity.

He glares at me. I almost gasp as his eyes meet mine. I start to tremble, and tears threaten to slip down my cheeks. This is so cruel. Why now? and why him, of all people?

I stand, shaking, and walk over to him. He stiffens as I touch the cap that conceals his hair. In one swift, gentle motion, the cap falls to the floor. My eyes widen.

"You're real right?" I gasp, my eyes stinging with tears. "This isn't a joke?"

He looks at me, confused. "Jeez, why are you so surprised?" He says rudely. I look up at him. Something's off. I step back from him. Yes, somethings terribly wrong.

"Why wouldn't I be, Finn?" I say quietly. In an instant, I'm being pinned to the wall. He pulls the face mask off and glares at me with his beautiful, dark eyes. But this time, there's a dangerous spark in their mysterious depths. His forehead is almost touching mine. I gasp quietly. He's so close.

His red hair brushes against my cheek. I want to melt into him. The look in his eyes tells me that he feels completely different than I do, though. This is confirmed when he growls, "How do you know my name?"