Winter Wakes

White.

Bright, pure, white. There was nothing else for my eyes to focus on. And honestly, it hurt. Almost involuntarily my eyes squeezed shut, blocking that sight, but not affecting my other senses which were then starting to hit me. I could feel the cold everywhere. I felt it’s stinging in my nose and lungs with every shaking breath, leaving a painful and raw feeling which worsened with every inhale. The left side of my body was pressed against something distinguishable, numbness beginning to seep into every inch of my body that was in contact with it: snow.

With a few quick blinks I managed to adjust to the brightness of the harsh but pretty substance and slowly pushed myself into a sitting position. The snow compressed beneath my hands, a nice imprint of my figure left at the trunk of one of the many trees surrounding me. Disorientation was winning over hypothermia then. Sleeping in the snow wasn’t a hobby of mine, so what the hell was going on here?

The next set of chills that erupt across my body was unstoppable. The parts of my body that weren’t going numb from the snow felt as though the chill was burning them. I could see bits of snow stuck in my loose, messy hair as I looked around. Trees draped in snow with shining entrapments of ice wrapped around their branches were the only thing in any direction. The situation refused to do much sinking in. I was in the woods, in my pajamas, passed out in the snow. What the fuck?

The trembling became uncontrollable, my teeth chattering violently while I tried to stand up. Wrapping my ice cold hands around my damp, freezing arms did no good. I could feel the weight from where the snow had thawed somewhat against my clothes, leaving them to stick coldly to my frame like a wetsuit someone used to take a dip in the Arctic. Trying to walk at first with semi-numbed feet was a failed experience; I tumbled forward onto my knees racking with shakes and gasps. The numbness I realized was nearly a lie. My feet were numb to everything but a burning sensation that felt like millions of little needles being shoved into their soles. I glared down at the snow; what a cruel yet beautiful thing.

But looking below me I noticed something; the snow here was marred by a pattern of imperfections. My gaze followed the slight flaw into the distance, through the trees. It took only a swift glance around to confirm that there was in fact, only one set of footsteps leading to where I now kneeled in the snow. That was my way out and hopefully, my way to warmth. I tried again to stand, this time using the tree beside me for support. My bones seemed to be rattling with cold as I stumbled along the trail.

Something was awry here; not just the fact that I had been unconscious in the woods, but something was missing. I had a feeling that something could also explain to me what the hell I was doing collapsed in the snow. The gears of my mind were slowly beginning to de-thaw, and therefore beginning to turn. Although vague, things were starting to come back. Darren had been at my house, Darren had been acting strangely. He had also forced his way in, exuding a deadly, crazed aura. That was the last thing I seemed to remember.

I ignored the daggers of cold that seemed to be piercing my feet. There was one other time something like this had happened, and I had a feeling something very similar had gone down just now. But, why would he leave me in the snow? And just where was he? What had happened?

The ice covered trees began to thin out ahead of me; I breathed a ragged sigh of relief at the sight of something familiar: my house. It seemed to radiate a sense of warmth, comfort, and relief. The loud purr of an engine cut my joy short though. I stopped in horror just beside the tree that separated my yard from the woods behind, unsure if my frozen state was due to surprise, or fear. There was only one car I knew that sounded like that. Darren’s Jaguar was still here.

Without warning I was jerked back a few steps into the shelter of the trees a hand stifling the startled scream that was pulled from my lips; that hand felt almost warm in comparison to the unfortunate temperature.

“Do. Not. Move,” Simon hissed behind me.

That voice was enough to temporarily relinquish my mind of the fear Darren’s presence had filled it with. It also rendered me motionless at his command, I doubted this was one of his games, I needed to trust him. Despite the past secrets and the blights of violence he had tried to forefend me against a maddened Darren earlier, I owed him that much.

The purr turned to a roar a few times as the Jaguar’s engine revved. Over the course of a few minutes the sound remained, as did Simon’s hand over my mouth. The fear and the cold- which was now rendering a few more parts of my body numb- made it nearly impossible to think. Just what had Darren wanted? What had pushed him over the brink of insanity and pulled an attack against me from him?

At last the engine roared louder than before, enough to startle me into taking a few steps back. But it was then, seconds later I saw it drive up the road. It made its trek slowly, either due to the icy conditions of the pavement or because he was looking for something, maybe someone in particular.

The dead boy’s hand didn’t move, not until at least thirty seconds after the expensive car had been out of view. It disappeared from its place over my mouth, only to relocate to my back. Two hands almost roughly were pushing me forward. Until my feet began to move against my will I had begun to wonder I was frozen to the spot.

“You need to get inside the house before you die from hypothermia,” His words felt sharp although they may have meant well. “You’re going upstairs and taking a hot shower. No stopping. You understand?”

I nearly tripped as I was pushed up the steps, trying to turn and give him a nod of affirmation. The front door was still open from when Darren had left; I hastily got through it before I could receive another shove for not being fast enough. Once in though, it was hard not to stop; the room didn’t look as it had a little while ago. The table that was beside the archway which led into the living room was on the floor, the chrome vase that had been on it near my feet by the door. The fake yellow flowers that had been in the vase were scattered across the room.

“I said no stopping.”

I turned slightly to look at him as the door clicked shut. I didn’t miss the extra turn which assured it was locked. He watched me with a cold unreadable mask, not moving from where he stood in front of the door. My eyes danced over his figure, trying to analyze the situation. He was tense, his shoulders rigid beneath his white shirt, arms dangling at his sides with his hands balled into fists. Warnings like this had never stopped me before.

I shivered. Although the air of the room was warm, my wet pajamas were still cold, clinging to me like a miserable second skin. I could feel the flannel bottoms plastered against my thighs and calves in a way that made me desire more than anything to peel them off my cold, goose bump ridden flesh. But right now, I had to know.

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

The only thing that hung in the air then was a frigid silence, no words of confirmation or nullification. It was a standoff.

I bit the inside of my lip, “We need to talk about this.”

“Oh we’re going to talk about it alright; you don’t have to worry about that at all,” His eyes lit up with an icy flame. “But first you’re going to go take a hot shower and change clothes. I don’t want hypothermia to kill you before I do.”

My mouth fell open as I stood in between Simon and the stairs. That was something I certainly hadn’t been expecting. Not the harsh tone, not to feel like I had done something wrong. Just what had happened between my loss of consciousness and now?

“Go!” He snapped, stepping forward. Hastily backing away I managed to turn and get up the stairs without tripping, by what miracle I don’t know.

Scuttling to the bathroom as quickly as I could I began removing my snow-drenched clothing before I was even through the door. My pants and shirt were shoved in the sink as my numb fingers struggled with the knobs in the shower. The initial burst of cold water caused me to jerk back momentarily before trying to adjust it once again to a steaming and bearable temperature. Bearable was a lie, the water could possibly be deemed scalding. But then I didn’t care. I needed it to rinse away the numbness, obliterate the cold that hung on my skin like a parasite. I needed more than anything to get back out there to Simon, to figure out just what had gone down. I wanted to understand his sudden shift in attitude, find out why he seemed so blatantly angry with me.

As feeling returned to my fingers, and other body parts so did the sensation of pain that came with being out in the cold for too long. Or perhaps rawness is a better word. Leaning against the shower wall I allowed the almost-unbearably hot water to saturate my scalp, rinsing away any traces of the snow that had clung to it in the woods. All of the miserable frost-like feeling that had coated my skin was now gone. Almost hesitantly I reached forward and turned off the flow of water. I stood dripping for a few seconds before grabbing a towel and my plush robe. I tried to towel dry my hair a little before giving up and throwing it into the corner. I’d worry about it later. Right now there were more important matters at hand.

Simon wasn’t at the window seat when I entered my room, nor was he by the bookshelf. Instead the semi-translucent figure was seated on my bed staring down at something in his palm; my cell phone.

“What are you doing?” I stayed where I was by the door of my bathroom. Simon merely lifted his head, a starkly serious look gracing his face. Half a second later he threw it; I watched it bounce once on the carpet, landing a few feet short of where I stood.

“Pinpointing what brought this situation on us,” His tone was indecipherable. “Why don’t you read it?”

Something felt as though it was lodged in my chest, an odd, anticipatory almost dreadful feeling. It only seemed to grow was I bent down, my fingers wrapping carefully around the phone as I turned it over. The instant I hit the clear button the screen lit up.

Since you couldn’t really satisfy my needs in bed, I can’t say I’m sad to see a small-dicked two timing bastard like yourself go. But for future reference, stay away from me. If you don’t, I know how to destroy you, completely. And I will do it. Trust me on that.

I blinked at the screen, “I never sent this.”

Simon produced an audible sigh from across the room. I tore my eyes from the unfamiliar message long enough to see his head resting in his palm.

“You’ve already forgotten? Are you kidding me? I even told you I sent that, Maggie,” He chided wearily. Only after he admitted to it did things start to click. What Darren had said made some kind of sense now. But there was still a piece of the picture that was absent.

“He thought I knew something,” I muttered more to myself than to Simon. And there was where the gap came into play. I didn’t know anything. At least nothing that would make him lash out and act in such a strange and horrifying way. I knew as much as any girlfriend did about her boyfriend—or, any ex-girlfriend knew about her ex-boyfriend. He wasn’t perfect, he could be a brat, and now we can add cheater to that list, but nothing more hazardous than that. “But I don’t know anything that’s bad enough to ruin him.”

A strangled laugh emitted from Simon’s figure across the room, “You didn’t know anything? Seriously? I had communication with the fucker for no more than three minutes and I learned shit you should have known if you were with him for two fucking years. Do you have any idea what the hell was going on with that kid? With that family? Do you have any fucking idea how dangerous they are?”

“Simon, what are you talking about?” A fair amount of caution reared its head in my tone. What did he know that I didn’t?

The apparition fixed me with a hard, but somehow defeated stare, “Right before I managed to bash him over the head with that vase of yours downstairs and got us out of there, he wanted to know just how you found out his parents were drug dealers.”

The same dropping feeling from earlier during the encounter with Darren hit me again, except much harder. Had I misheard him?

“What?” I croaked.

“You never knew what they did, right? Never knew why they had all that money, or anything? They’re no small fry street-corner dealers, sunshine. These are the international dealers. This is who you come to if you want to supply the street dealers. I think that kid knows that if his parents were found out, they wouldn’t just take out the rat in this case, considering you are the rat, they’d take out him as well,” Simon grew quiet for a moment. “But how the hell could you not fucking know something like that, Maggie? Or at least have an inclination that there was something wrong with that situation? Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous those people are? Christ, Maggie, you’re a magnet for harmful people.”

What he was telling me didn’t seem to want to sink in, at all. It didn’t seem right, and he had a valid point. I had known Darren for two years, how could I not know something like that? How could it seem as though I didn’t know him at all? If I knew him that little it prompt other questions. Simon seemed unaware of my eyes on him as I leaned against the door frame. Just how little did I truly know this ethereal being?

“He’s going to try to get to me again, isn’t he?” The words fell almost monotonely from my mouth without much effort.

Simon’s elbow was resting on his knee, the side of his head pressed against his forearm. One of his icy irises slowly slid in my direction, focusing on me with a slightly distant look, “Probably.”

Something clicked in my brain as we sat there, locked in an awkward stare. I didn’t know this dead boy, no. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t able to read him. Ever since his eruption of emotions over the past few days, it seemed nearly impossible for him to maintain the haughty façade if something was eating away at him. I stepped forward, his eyes sat on me with the same distant look. He didn’t even bother to move.

“Simon, what’s wrong with you?” He quirked a white-blonde eyebrow at my question; I felt my lips tugging down. “Aside from what you just told me. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

With a scoff, he averted his gaze. I knew without having to look those ice-colored eyes were trained on the white, frozen world outside my window.

“You had no idea your ex’s parents were involved in an illegal business but you noticed that quickly something’s on my mind? What kind of weird fuck are you?” The jibe in his words felt only half-hearted. I stood at the foot of my bed without moving. He could just ignore me, he could threaten me, and he could even lie to me. But I wasn’t going anywhere until I at least got some kind of explanation out of him. It’s an odd situation when you realize your ex may be out to put you in your grave, but you’re nearly too worried about the already-dead to care all too much.

“It didn’t hit me until I possessed you this time. I doubt it would have if that hadn’t happened,” He murmured in an un-Simon-like manner. “There are many differences between you and me, Maggie. But there’s one major difference between the living and the dead in this case. How did it feel when you woke up in the snow? What could you feel?”

My lips were nearly a tight line, incapable of separation, “I felt cold, wet…slightly in pain, confused, disoriented—“

“But you could feel the chill of the snow, right? The physical pain that came with being in it in such inappropriate clothing, even for a short period of time, right?”

My hands clenched around folds of my robe; I had a feeling I knew where this was going. If I was right, I pitied him more than anyone else.

“That’s a good way to confirm you’re dead you know. You don’t feel anything like that anymore,” He stated. “When I was in you though, I could feel it all. But as soon as we separated…”

I felt something in my chest ache. My hands squeezed my robe tighter, he was hurting, badly. No one deserved that, especially not him.

The ghost of a smile on his face did nothing to mask that something inside him was breaking, “You have no idea what it’s like not to be able to feel.”