The Third War

Chapter Seventy Five: Kristy

"Oh my!"

Outside the building, the clouds had finally broken sending down a storm of snow. The wind whistled around me blowing snow right into my face as I walked to the building's hospital pulling my coat closer. About eight inches had accumulated on the ground so my socks were soon drenched as well.

"Wha," Upon realizing I was three inches away from running into the door, I turned back to see I couldn't make out the building through the storm. Now really wanting to get inside, I fumbled with the door gratefully stumbling into the warmth once it opened.

I walked down the halls noticing with annoyance that frost had settled on my coat, and hair, and eyebrows, and eyelashes. Dustin's door was slightly open when I arrived, so I pushed it open cautiously, "Ello?"

The poor child was fighting his bed which looked capsized. He pushed on end down with his arms to have the other pop back up hitting him in the back. "Agh! Stop it!"

He flailed trying to hold both down. I frowned,  "Everything alright in here?" 

"Huh?" Dustin looked over losing his grip so the bed sprung up smashing him in between the two halves like a Dusty sandwich.

He mumbled through the bedding, "Hi! And everything is not alright. I did absolutely nothing, but it hates me."

"Right," I walked over prying on one end down letting him crawl out.

"I think it knows about its cousin," he glanced over at me failing to hide a smile.

I shook my head finding the button which returned the bed to its normal state, "No wonder they act like this, they want their suffering to be quick."

"Ouch," he gave me a hurt look. I ignored it.

"I'm not even going to ask how long you were struggling with that, but, Merry Christmas."

His hurt look turned into surprise, "It's Christmas?"

"Everyone else was surprised too."

"I guess that's not updated," Dustin motioned to an old looking calendar which hung on the wall saying August. "Merry Christmas to you too then I guess." He shrugged. 

"Well, I figured since you're supposed to be in here, you'd like a bit of a window," I handed him a sketch book that had drawings on every page of certain things that had happened, or some of the cats, or just whatever. He took it carefully flipping through the pages quickly.

"I love it," Dustin's smile at that point could've warmed up Elsa. "Er, here," he ruffled through his bed sheets pulling out a folded piece of paper that it had cuts on the side so it would probably look like a snowflake when opened.

However, knowing Dustin, it would probably look like a spikey box.

"You said you'd write down everything you couldn't say, so...just read it later, when I'm not in the room."

I took it carefully sliding it into my pocket, "Alright, so, how have you been?"

"Fantabulous," he leaned backward so he was almost sitting on the bed but not exactly. "How's everyone else?"

I tried to smile, "Zoe is doing better, Jerry is....Jerry, Chip is Chip, Phoebe's tired, but okay."

"And yourself?"

"The world could care less about myself."

"I'm not the world," he pointed out.

I anxiously rubbed the corner of the note in my pocket as Dustin continued, "And if that's true, than the world is stupid, but, then again, I'm pretty stupid."