A Breath of Snow

Chapter 2: The Name

Ember had awoken once more. It was her second day in the old hospital, and nothing had changed except for the curtains. Earlier, they had surrounded her bed like a fortress, but now it was as if she was unprotected and open to the world.

She looked at the window, trying to peer through it, but being unsuccessful due to a thin layer of frost. Ember moved her sight to the bed beside her. It was empty, but the sheets were still used.

"Maybe he just left", she had said, trying to stand on her numb feet. A folded piece of paper fell to the cold, tile floor. Ember grabbed a corner of it, unfolding it slowly. It was a picture of a woman looking outside a window, her slender body in a wheelchair. On the back, the signature CW was drawn in a beautiful cursive font.

Ember had a feeling that she knew who's this was, however, he wasn't in bed like last time. She slipped the picture into her robe pocket, forgetting all about it.

Ember walked out of the hospital ward and towards a bathroom. The restroom was deserted. It was dusty, dirty, and cold. She looked through the grimy mirror, seeing a complete stranger. 

Before her third year of college, Ember was healthy and beautiful, but now it was the opposite. Her face was sunken and pale, her lips were dry, her hair was messy, and her arms were as thin as bones. She looked dead.

Ember quickly caught something in the corner of her eye and jumped. A moth fell from the ceiling and was lying on it's back, flailing.

"Me too, bud", she said aloud. "I'll put you out of your misery."

She walked towards a stall, grabbing multiple pieces of toilet paper, but then stopped to look at the writing on the door.

Die was written in black sharpie many times. The handwriting was violent and the same.

"I wish", she said as she moved away from the stall back to the moth.

It was gone.

She, too, left, feeling even more hollow than she did before.

She walked around until she stumbled upon a vast dining hall converted into a cafeteria for the hospital staff and patients. Inside, groups of people sat conversing about small things like what they did yesterday or what medication they have now.

Ember walked to an empty table, sitting her head down onto the clean smelling tabletop. Her thoughts slowly melted away like a candle wick burning into hot wax. 

"Hi, there", a voice said brightly, waking her from her daze. "Remember me?"

She looked up, gazing at a boy around her age who's skin, hair, and eyes seemed to glow with warmth.

"No", she said before putting her head back down.

She groaned as he sat down across from her.

"Come on, don't be like that", he said, attempting to get her attention. "Listen, I know you don't like me, but it's better to have friends here."

"Really?", she asked sarcastically as she lifted her head. "Why's that?"

He dramatically looked both ways while leaning in to whisper.

"Well, you see those two women in pink bathrobes over there", he said while nodding his head in their direction. "Those old crones love starting gossip as much as they love Jell-O for dessert. One look at you, and they'd ruin your image here for good."

"Hm", Ember said, "Not like they have much left to ruin."

"Wait", he said quickly, "there's more."

She looked at him, seeing his desperation. She gave in out of pity.

"Okay", she said before he could say another word. "I'll be your damn friend, but stop your jabbering."

At first, he seemed confused, but then his face glowed up as he flashed a million-dollar-smile. 

"Great", he exclaimed happily, holding his hand out. "The names Crispin, Crispin Whitaker."

"Ember", she said, "just Ember." 

Crispin grabbed her hand, shaking it while smiling.

"What have I gotten myself into", Ember thought.