December // A Winter Soldier Story

3

Ｄｅｃｅｍｂｅｒ １８ｔｈ， ２０１３

２１°

𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓁𝒹𝒾ℯ𝓇

He is cold.

So cold.

The snow is rock hard beneath his feet. He is trying to cross the forest to get to the small downtown area on the other side of it, as he does for each mission he is assigned.

But something is off this time. He hasn't felt right since his last wiping, but since his memory was electrocuted out of his own head, he can't remember why he feels so off.

Every time they fry his brain, he is usually thankful. It's nice not having to remember your pain and suffering all the time. The longer he goes without a memory wipe, the more his head hurts, and the more confused he is by everything around him, so usually the electrocution is a painful blessing. But this time he feels like he didn't want to be wiped. For some reason, his mind is echoing with a vague outline of somebody -- a black form that looks like no one in particular -- and this is making him question everything. He is dying to know who that person is, and for the first time in a long time, he is wishing he never had his memory wiped, so he would know their significance.

But his memory has been wiped clean, and now he is left feeling more lost and empty than ever.

The sun is setting as he walks. It is a brilliant shade of red. He is so distracted by the sunset and his own confusion that he does not realize that he is walking closer to the edge of the forest, where all the houses are. Once he realizes this, he curses. He can't be careless or he'll get caught, and then severely punished.

He immediately moves to shift further into the trees. But something catches his eye before he does.

From where he is standing, he can see into the window of the house at the end of the street. A girl is sitting inside in a small chair, a blanket wrapped around her frame. He can see her light blonde hair from here.

His body pauses and his head twitches. A tug in his chest -- and a feeling in the back of his mind -- has stopped him. She has triggered something inside of him just with a single glance in her direction. He has no idea why his mind and body are screaming at him to stay right where he is.

Why has always been a hard question for him. His superiors like to avoid the question altogether, as they seem to believe the answer doesn't matter. But right now he wishes more than anything that he knew the answers. Why is he frozen at the sight of her? Why does she seem so familiar? Why can't he look away?

Why does he feel like there is a connection between her and the dim figure echoing in his thoughts?

He watches as she stands, dropping the blanket from her shoulders with a yawn as she heads toward the television and switches it off. Every movement she makes is smooth, as if she has all the time in the world. Her muscles are not clenched in fear, her chest is not heaving, and she looks peaceful, not scared.

This is all foreign to him. He does not belong in her world of stillness, of calm. He is quite literally an outsider at the moment, and cannot imagine a scenario in which he might have had the same life. But at the same time, looking at the house tugs at something in the depths of his memory. Did he used to know a life like this, a long, long time ago?

He doesn't know. He can't remember. This is all too much thinking, and his head hurts.

As he struggles with his own mind, he moves to the side to get a better view of the girl. But as she adjusts the picture frame beside the television, her entire body freezes. It only takes the soldier a split second to realize that the picture is covered with glass, and she might be looking at his reflection.

He dives behind a patch of dead bushes to his left at the speed of light. He is careful to remain flat on his stomach and to not touch the bush, because if the bush were to move, she would know that he was there.

He can just barely see her between the dead branches in front of him. She is staring intently out of the window, searching for what she thought she saw. He watches as the confusion moves across her face. The doubt. Another emotion, one he does not recognize.

She stands there for longer than he expects her to. He spends the time memorizing her face, staring at every detail. His eyesight is enhanced, so despite their distance, he can see that her eyes are a bright blue, that her skin is clear and looks impossibly smooth, that her lips are pink and full. She is young, and the prettiest thing he can ever remember seeing. He is used to grime, dust, dirt, blood, burned flesh, scars. Everything about her is the exact opposite.

Eventually, she decides that either she didn't see him like she thought she did, or that he's already gone and not coming back. Her shoulders sag and her eyes fall and she turns around, drifting down a hallway.

She does not turn back around. The soldier slowly stands, watching the curve of her body turn a corner and disappear. He stands there for a minute after she leaves, trapped in his own head.

Why is he stuck on her?

He doesn't know. He wishes more than anything that he did.

Then he remembers where he is and what he is supposed to be doing, and forces his feet to carry him away from her house and towards his next assignment. He would rather stay here and figure out who she is than go kill someone, but he doesn't have a choice. He has to complete the mission. If he doesn't, he will be tortured again.

He's never before been so unfocused heading into a mission. He's never before had any reason to be unfocused. But right now he can't think straight at all, and he knows that all of his confusion has something to do with that girl. He just wishes he knew why.

As he moves farther from her neighborhood and stomps through untouched snow, he tries to think about the plan for the mission he's about to go on. He can picture his target, and the blueprint of the building. He knows where the guards are going to be, how many bullets he has, and how much time he's got. But he finds his mind continuously drifting back to her.

Like a ghost, he's not sure if she is even real. Now she is gone, and he is left to wonder.