Winter Sage

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Winter Sage | Prologue

World was painted white, once again, but the beautiful crystals that fell from the sky didn't delight her at all. Winter meant cold and cold meant calloused hearts. She was one of them. A scrooge, as many labeled. Calloused, not from the simple dismay of joy that others' celebrated, but from the arduous cycle that repeated years after years with no progress. She was one of them. No progress at all. 

The year's end immediately labeled her as a failure. The fact that she couldn't meet her end's goals proved her inability to progress any further. And then again, she didn't expect a plot twist like those in a fairy tale. She had gotten so used to this vicious cycle, she accepted the constant reminder of her failure. She was used to it now. 

Snow didn't seem so beautiful anymore. As if crashed down on the ground furiously, it gathered higher and higher as if to build a fortress of great snow around her house. Might as well build a draw bridge as well, She thought. 

One thing she loved about winter, however, was the way the windows frosted around the edges. She loved watching the whole window freeze over. It was like a little game as the cold expanded its territory. It crept up from the edges and met with the top and slowly formed odd, yet satisfying shapes. She enjoyed drawing on the windows as well. She couldn't feel her fingertips, but she continued for hours the way children refused to go home from the play ground even after the sun set. It was after her fingertips turned blue and numb when she departed from her frozen art works and moved towards the kitchen to fix up a hot chocolate for herself. She had a taste of a child's. Chocolates over mints. Sweet biscuits over hard crackers. Hot chocolate over bitter coffee. Soda pop over wine.  It wasn't just her taste that was child-like. Her calloused heart may have hardened due to her child-like behaviors and views. Yet, it only took seconds for that calloused heart to melt immediately. Only seconds. Maybe hours. Days? Weeks. Maybe it had already melted. 

A knock on the door. A tall shadow. 

She was dubious. She looked at the peep hole. There was a man. She couldn't see his face well, but he looked freezing. He had bare feet and wore a thin layer of white pajama-like clothing underneath a beige coat that couldn't block the harsh cold outside. He lifted his face. Pale. So pale that he looked like a corpse. Sunken sockets. Yet, his eyes sparkled. They were the color of beautiful blue: a crystallized ocean that somehow sparkled like a galaxy. Maybe the eyes captivated her. Her hand moved before her mind could process. She opened the door. He didn't move. Neither did she. They stared at each other, maybe frightened, maybe a little lost. When her senses returned, she immediately shut the door again. She looked at the peep hole once again and the man was still there. She scowled. If he had planned to murder her, he would have done it already.

She opened the door once again. Something about his expression, although silent and no syllables left his mouth, told her that he was in despair. 

"You can come in," she told him. 

Maybe he had been waiting for her permission. He took a step. Then another. He shivered violently and fell on the ground. In fear and confusion, she tapped his shoulder. "H-hello? Are you alright?" 

Is he dead? What do I do now? He looks sick. Can I move him to my bed? 

She managed to drag him to her couch. She brought layers of colorful blankets and wrapped them around him. She checked his temperature which read 56.7 degrees Fahrenheit. 

"How is this body temperature even possible? How is he alive?" she murmured to herself. She looked at him again. He just looked like a corpse. Dead. Dormant. Lifeless. Fragile. His fingers were blue. She lifted his sleeve up to check his pulse, but all she found was a tattoo on his left wrist. It was a number. 1001. She frowned. She wasn't in the mood to do math. 

She grabbed her phone. It was the only thing she could do. 

One ring. Two ring. 

She picked up on the third ring. 

"Sal." she called. "I need help. Please."

"What's wrong?" Her friend answered

"There's a man and I think he's dying. You are a doctor. Can you come over real quick? Please?"

"Right now?" She could hear her check the clock. It was 11:42. Almost midnight. "Are you okay? I'll come over right now." 

She breathed out. "Thank you. Thank you. See you soon." 

She sighed out in frustration. Everything had happened so quickly. She gathered herself and tried to think how she had gotten into this situation. Her imagination took her far. She wondered if she would be blamed for his death if he ever died on her couch. She wondered what she would do with her cat, Caspian and her plants. She didn't want this stranger to ruin her life. While she was overwhelmed by sudden despair from her wild imagination, her friend arrived. 

"Sal! What if he dies?! I don't want to go to jail!!" 

Her friend, pale skinned and dark haired, looked somewhat similar to the stranger on her couch. Except for the eyes. Her eyes were green. His were blue. 

"Calm down. Let me see." She checked his pulse, opened his eyes with her fingers and and lighted his eyes with a flash. She sighed. "We need to strip him."

"W-what?" She backed away. "Are you crazy?"

"His temperature is dropping. His clothes are wet from snow. We need to dry him off. Do you have some hot packs? Or even hot water bottles. Wrap it in several layers of cloth and bring it to me. Oh, and some extra clothes." 

Sal gingerly removed his shirt. "What in the world...Kennedy come here..." 

"What? What the..." She almost dropped the mug filled with hot water. She put it back on the kitchen counter and rushed towards the stranger. "Why is he like that?" There were stitches. A lot of stitches and scars around his body. Especially his heart. They looked painful. It looked as if someone had tried to stitch up a doll. 

"I don't know..." They remained silent, but Sal was more determined to save this mysterious stranger. "I want some explanation afterwards. Do you have the hot packs?" 

"Hot water." She passed her five water bottles wrapped in towels. She handed Sal her large sweater that she wore like a dress. They managed to undress him and stick his arms and face through the tiny holes. They massaged him. He looked less pale. 

The clock read 2:03. The stranger opened his eyes. The view was fuzzy and warm. He looked around him to see a woman staring back at him. She had long black hair and a mischievous smile. 

Something about that smile gave him chills. "Finally." she spoke. "Hey! He's awake. I can't believe you fell asleep, Kennedy...Ugh. I'll get you some warm tea."

Kennedy had fallen asleep a few minutes before he was conscious. She woke up drowsily and looked up at the couch from the floor. She still had the water bottle, now cold, in her hand. "Good. You are alive. I will be expecting some explanations tomorrow morning. I am going to bed." 

"Kennedy! Are you serious, Kennedy? At least you are going to let me sleep on the bed!" Sal rolled her eyes and passed the stranger a freshly brewed herbal tea. "You must be tired. Don't worry. You are in safe hands. Go to sleep. I'll get you a pillow if you'd like." 

The stranger didn't speak nor move. He simply stared at the direction that Kennedy was sleeping at. Maybe it was the warmth and the thick layers of blankets. Maybe it was the tea that washed down on him the way his drowsiness did. He fell back and let the closed his eyes for another night of dreamless sleep. 

Sal, contented that she witnessed him fall asleep, went to Kennedy's room to dominate her bed. Kennedy was already asleep and the bed wasn't big enough to fit two people. She rolled her eyes, mumbled in frustration and found herself a sleeping back from the closet. She crawled inside and closed her eyes in despair for another sleepless night from fearful nightmares.