Ashes In The Snow

The Peeling Wallpaper

The snow came in quick succession, covering the world in a thick white blanket.

The sidewalk was littered with different shapes and sizes of footprints, of men and animal, some intertwining, some dispersed. The snowfall was breathtaking, instantly marking the start of winter. I used to draw on the window of cars parked outside the overused playground with my brother, but he was sent out for war just recently. So much for chuckling at baffled drivers behind bushes.

The river was starting the freeze, the ducks and swans have long hidden from the cold. A beggar lay next to a bin, draped in a single ragged blanket. He was shivering uncontrollably while murmuring under his breath. He had been there since I started going to school. Which was about ten years ago. Thinking about how others would reprimand me for approaching him, I walked away quickly.

I headed home through a narrow corridor, the familiar paling red brick walls on both sides acted as a temporary sense of comfort. With nothing to occupy myself with, I began to notice the posters of varying sizes that were posted on the walls. Each of them had their own special message, but we were told not to question them. Despite that, there was one that stood out to me ever since I was a child. It was of a downcast boy who was sitting on a wheelchair while others around him were mocking him. Their eyes wide and faces etched with disdain. Beneath this were the words, "Those who can't work, shan't eat." bolded in red.

Typical. We were bombarded with these ideas ever since we were born. If you were unfortunate, there is no helping you.

I continued walking down the corridor, slightly quickening my pace.

Just as I reached the end, I spotted a bony coloured boy scavenging for food in a pile of rubbish. Desperately trying to find anything to cease his growling stomach. I looked around, cautious of any enforces around the area. These people were not allowed out of their respective zones. Even if they were, they were told to not make contact with anyone but their own kind. I watched as he hunted for anything edible within the trash pile, and wondered how he managed to escape from the enforcers. He seemed to have sensed my presence though, as he gradually stopped rummaging through the trash.

He lingered there for a while longer, just staring at me with his hollow cheeks and dull, empty eyes. Obviously too hungry to even think. He would not get any pity around here though, people have started being uncharitable a long time ago. He breathed heavily, forming puffs of mist whenever he exhaled. Much like a helpless bony dragon.

We stared at each other for a while longer until I finally snapped out of my trance, due to the boy slowly edging away from me. I quickly pulled over my bag and searched for the packet of crackers that I did not have to time to eat during break at school. But when I finally found it and planned to covertly hand it to him, he vanished. He left no trace of his presence. Even the trash looked like it has not just been searched over. I guess he weighed the consequences of approaching me with the possible chance of starvation and found out which was more wise.

After that rather strange encounter, I opened the door to the building and ran up three flights of stairs into my apartment. The heater was on, creating a huge contrast with the chilly winter air outside. I said my hellos and good afternoons to my parents then quickly retreated to my room.

I happened to cross my second brother's room when I was about to finish my daily chores. I could not help but peek inside.

He was not a normal person. The world made sure that I knew that. I stopped in front of his room and spotted him in his wheelchair. His head was slightly tilted to the right. He was drooling through his half-closed mouth as he stared at the wall opposite of him. His legs was crooked at an uncomfortable angle, but he did not seem to mind. The white wallpaper was peeling, revealing the scars beneath. Cracks extended from the ceiling to the ground and several others were scattered on the uneven surface.

His eyes were never focused, always open, as if he was in a never-ending daydream. 

My close friends refused to come to my house because of him. They think that he is frightening and unnatural. 

He makes mother worry and drives father mad sometimes. We have been trying to hide him ever since the Council declared that people like him should not have to right to live. He could not walk, let alone work for our country.

We tried to keep him safe from the snickers and rude comments, even though he wouldn't be able to understand them. It was like we were protecting him from the horrors of this world.

He shifted in his seat and I snapped out of my thoughts. I quickly went back to my room. No use thinking about this now. I need my sleep for a fresh start tomorrow.

~

Waking up was no problem. First half of school was rather boring though, but the later half was absolutely hectic.

When we were having fourth period History, a sound of marching could be heard outside. The loud thud of footsteps made students and teachers alike peer out the small windows of our classrooms to see what was going on. I managed to peek from the corner and saw wave after wave of armed men roaming the streets. They marched and looked like a flock of robotised birds, neat and lifeless.

Right in front of the entrance of our school stood an important-looking person who was speaking through a shiny red speaker. He said loud and clear, "The Cleansing is about to begin."

Most of my classmates giggled "Are the police here to clean up the streets like cleaning ladies?" They snickered obnoxiously, completely unaware about the seriousness of this. Although I was not entirely sure of what was to come as well.

I looked around and spotted my teacher, he looked disappointed, or even borderline furious. His reaction to this stood out like a sore thumb amongst this oblivious bunch.

Ms Allen called for him in the hallway; she looked frantic. Her hair was all over her face as she gasped for air at the door. It seemed like something really big was about to happen. Everyone was speaking at the same time, making shallow assumptions. Murmuring, whispering, shouting, complaining. The classroom suddenly felt very confining. I felt like I was drowning.

"Children!" he called out to us. "Stay in your seats and keep quiet." Then he rushed out to Ms Allen's side. Later leaving somewhere with her.

A while later, a substitute teacher strode in with a proud expression. "It is finally starting, students. This is going to be new beginning."

Everyone looked immensely confused but happy because the teachers responsible for our later lessons were all "busy".

There was a nagging feeing at the back of my mind. Something was terribly wrong.

~~~~~~~~

A/N : Squeee here's the first chapter. I hope you liked it :D