âall
of those
beautiful
things
sunlight,
goodness,
stars,
you.â
It snowed the next day.
And apparently, it had been snowing for hours while I was asleep. Luce hadn't even bothered to wake me up, even when she knew how much I loved snow. I was pissed at her.
However, my anger went away just as quickly when I slid open my bedroom window. The cold breeze swept in along with remnants of snow that had frosted along the slanted roof. It took mere seconds for me to get captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that shone in between the snowflakes as they tumbled down.
It was beautiful.
I couldn't believe this was my first time watching the snow in real life. It felt absolutely nothing like watching it in movies. I wanted to go out there, out of this apartment, and admire the breathtaking view (metaphorically and literally, both, since I could feel the tip of my nose numbing under the cold).
And that's exactly where the problem started.
I was supposed to stay here, at least until I got a little better--according to Luce. Even though I had already taken two days off from volunteering, Luce didn't seem to mind. I was pretty sure someone was gonna kick me out if I kept this on for long. There were rules boldly written on that form Luce made me fill when I started volunteering, and I knew one of them consisted of not being absent for more than two days.
I glanced back at my opened window, at the beautiful snow outside, and I knew I couldn't stay here any longer. I needed to go out there where it was snowing so beautifully, where I could make snow angels, where I could catch snowflakes on my tongue.
Fuck this, I thought, I'm going out.
It took me a while to get up from my bed and guide my way through the empty apartment. Luce had already left and I found that out when I noticed the small green note stuck on the kitchen counter with Luce's handwriting scribbled across it.
I was still a little pissed at her for making me miss this beautiful weather.
It took me some more while to bundle myself up in warm clothes. I couldn't find any of my hoodies, so I practically had to put on two jackets--one that I had unabashedly stolen from my dad, even though it had been a bit too large on me.
Luce had been kind enough to leave me some coffee when she'd left. Which, now that I think about it, wasn't kind at all. She knew I didn't like coffee, especially in the mornings.
She also knew that I loved snow. And look where we were now.
When I reached the hospital, everyone was busy doing something. I didn't really see Luce anywhere. Even Jim seemed too busy with stuff. Nobody seemed to be happy that it was snowing, nowhere near as much as me, which was good since no one really paid attention to me and my post-sickness state.
I successfully punched my name in the authorization tab beside the office and sniffled before going inside, placing my stuff down. The inside of the hospital was much warmer than the cold outside. That's exactly why I had to take off my coat (Dad's one) and hang it over my arm.
And then as I was going up to psych ward 200, I came up with a brilliant plan.
The hallways were empty like always and when I stepped inside Alastair's room, I was a little surprised to see no other staff in there. Gladly, this was probably the first time he actually cared to register my presence at once.
He turned his gaze in my direction as I swiftly closed the door behind me. Perhaps it surprised him that I was visiting him in the morning.
"Hey." I was out of breath, so it came out in more like a breathy rush. A nasally, breathy rush.
He kept on staring but didn't really reply. Not like I was expecting him to. At least he wasn't excluding my presence like the other staff members. To me, that was a big accomplishment.
"Are you going somewhere?" I asked him when I noticed that he was sitting on the edge of his bed. I didn't know if he was allowed to leave the constant 24-hour check yet, even though it had almost been a week. Most of the patients here left the hospital within a week.
"No," He answered, giving me a somewhat strange look. His gaze didn't waver, not even once, when he leaned back with his hands on either side of him.
I was grateful for the puffer jacket I was wearing over my tank top. It was soft and warm and it enveloped me whole. It also made me a little less conscious of his stare and it lessened the urge inside me to ask him to look away. I didn't like when he stared at me like that, but I also truly hated when he didn't acknowledge anyone around him.
That was the problem. There was nothing in between those two stages.
"Do you maybe want to take a walk outside in the yard?" I suggested with a small smile, hoping he would say yes.
The snow made me happy. And even though I had enjoyed it (a little) on my way here, I still wanted to see the snow outside. Wouldn't he like it too, I thought, to get out of this room for a little while?
"No," He replied quite bluntly.
I couldn't help but frown then.
"Why not? It's snowing outside. Don't you like the snow?"
I heard him inhaling a deep breath before he looked away from me. I waited for him to answer the question, but like most of my questions, he didn't even bother with it.
"Don't you want to go out, though? You've been in this room for days." I lowered my voice, not really wanting him to take it in an offensive way.
"Is this about me or you?"
"Why would it be about me?" I tried feigning innocence, I really did, but perhaps the excitement of it was too obvious on my face.
I saw him fidgeting a little with the large white bandage around his wrist, his eyes trained on it too.
"You look a bit too excited." He whispered.
I sighed.
"That's not why--" I paused and thought better to correct it. What was the point of lying even? "That's not entirely why I asked you. I thought you might want to go out for a bit too."
He looked up at me with the same unnerving gaze.
I waited for him to say something but when he didn't, I shrugged and went towards the usually beeping machinery at one corner of the room, which were all switched off for the moment. I wondered where the morning aide was, the one who was supposed to keep a watch on him right now.
As I faced him again, I noticed that he was still fidgeting with the bandage.
"Do you want to take it off?" I asked him.
He didn't look up at me.
"Do you want me to change the bandage?" I tried once again.
He glanced up at me, just for a second maybe, before looking down at the bandage and his wrist again.
"Yeah." He whispered.
I smiled and slowly dragged the armchair in front of him, placing a suitable amount of distance between us before sitting down. Then I picked up a new roll of bandage from the drawer.
"I don't really get why all of you aren't as excited as me." I rambled lowly as I opened the bandage. This was also the routine. I ranted a lot when I came in here. Perhaps that was my coping mechanism when there was just too much unwanted silence around me. "Why don't you guys like it when it snows?"
It was when I started unraveling his bandage that he spoke lowly, with that quiet accent, "It snows all the time."
"I know. But still." I murmured, pulling off the entire bandage from his arm and moving on to the new one.
I couldn't really help it this time and noticed the deep scar running down his wrist, a shade of dark purple-red. It was hard not to stare, not when I could've felt something slowly gnawing in my stomach. A sick, hollow feeling.
I swallowed and darted my gaze away.
"It never really snows in my hometown," I spoke softly. "I've always wanted to see it."
He was wearing a black tee, I realized as my eyes seemed to linger on his other hand, the one he was clenching and unclenching slowly in his lap. That was actually the first time I noticed the dark black words inked onto his arm, right below his elbow. I tried making it out, whatever the tattoo was about, but multitasking wasn't really my thing. I could've asked him about it, but I decided not to.
He might just probably tell me to mind my own business. How embarrassing would that be?
I didn't understand it either how he wasn't really feeling cold in just a t-shirt. But when I gripped his hand gently to wrap the bandage, I felt that it was cold, colder than my own fingers.
He was cold, I told myself. He just didn't want to ask for help.
I exhaled a small sigh and continued to tend the bandage.
After a few seconds when I glanced up at him, I was a tiny bit surprised to see him staring at me. But then I noticed the distant look in his eyes and I realized that he wasn't really staring at me, at least not in that way.
"You're not from here," He stated and I nodded, even though he didn't care to make it sound like a question. "Why are you here then?"
I shrugged and finished wrapping up the bandage.
"My sister works here," I said, not being able to help myself but notice how much smaller my hand was compared to his. Still holding onto it, I realized before slowly letting his hand go.
"Done," I announced and stood up from the armchair, pushing it aside. "So...will you be coming with me now?"
He looked up at me and there was no distant look in his eyes this time. Just a beautiful grey hue dancing along with blues and silvers. I swallowed and diverted my eyes behind him.
"Okay."
°°°°°
There weren't many clothes of his that I could find within his very few belongings. And none of them included a jacket. I wasn't a moron to drag him out--which I hoped was the right thing to do--without a jacket on. It was still snowing outside and very very cold.
So I gave him my jacket. The one I had stolen from Dad. The one that had been too huge on me. The one that went along well with him, mostly because he was just as tall as Dad, maybe a few inches more. Which obviously meant that I looked really short in front of him and that made me feel like shit for the first few seconds.
"Why did you have two jackets with you?" Alastair asked me as we made our way outside the hallway, after making sure to check him out from the small tab that was installed right outside his door, and towards the yard.
There were no staff in the hallways like before but I knew I'd surely see someone near the yard. There was always a staff or two in teal-colored scrubs out in the yard. Most of the patients here, especially the old ones, loved taking small walks.
"I was cold," I told him.
He passed me a sideways glance but didn't say anything else.
We'd almost reached the outside doors when a voice spoke up behind us.
"Lia?"
I came to a halt and when Alastair saw me stopping, he stopped too. When I turned around, I saw Jim over the end of the hallway, slowly making his way towards us.
He stopped a few feet away from us before I saw his eyes darting from my face to Alastair's and then back at me.
"...and Alastair. Where are you guys headed off to?" He seemed confused, highly confused, but he still managed a grin.
"A walk in the yard," I said.
"Oh." He seemed a little miserable too, trying to hide the surprise from his face. Almost as if seeing Alastair here was the last thing he expected. "That sounds fun."
I glanced over at Alastair and noticed that he wasn't really paying attention to what we were talking about, his eyes focused around us but not really at us. He did that a lot, I realized. Cooped up in his head.
"I know." I smiled back at Jim, a little excitedly this time. "After all, it's snowing."
Jim smiled back. "It just stopped snowing."
The smile fell off my face.
"But yeah, go on. Have fun, I guess." He gave us a thumbs up before moving along to wherever he was heading off to. "Make sure you stay within the yard!"
When we reached outside, I realized that Jim had been right. It had stopped snowing. It wasn't snowing anymore.
"It's not snowing anymore," I murmured in horror, looking around the huge yard and the green grass which was speckled with bits of fallen snow. Just my fucking luck.
Squinting up at the sky, I mentally cursed at myself and everything around me (not Alastair, obviously) for ruining the excitement I had been feeling just a few seconds ago.
When I looked back at Alastair, he'd walked away, a few feet away, towards the guarded railing around the yard that overlooked the isolated road outside with the huge oak trees surrounding the entire sanitarium.
I silently trudged over towards him before leaning against the rigid railing. There were security guards taking rounds outside, but they mostly paid us no attention. Other than that, the yard was empty. No one was out here and I had a feeling it was because of the snow.
Alastair's gaze was trained at the pathway the trees had made in front of us. I wasn't really sure if that was a real forest, like the woods behind Luce's apartment, or just a bunch of few trees.
"Does it feel good?" I asked him, rubbing the sole of my shoe against the snow beneath me and watching it melt down. Snow was nice and not like rain. It gave this soft, warm feeling. A happy one. I didn't really know why I loved the thought of snow so much.
Alastair seemed lost in his thoughts when I glanced up at him and a small part inside me wanted to know what he was thinking about. What he always seemed to be thinking about.
"I want to get out of this place."
I looked up from the snow at him, failing to hide the surprise in my voice. "What?"
He broke his gaze away from the scenic view and looked at me. Slight frustration clouded over his features.
"I don't want to stay here," he said.
I blinked at him. Twice. Then I looked away. "You'll be fine. Just a little more time and then you'll be out there like the others." I didn't know what else to say.
He seemed to look away too and I realized that my heart had started racing wildly--not really sure why. I saw him clenching his jaw, almost as if stopping himself from saying something else.
"It isn't that bad, you know," I murmured, breaking the awful silence. "All of them, all of us, are just trying to...help."
He was still grinding his jaw, looking over at the dense trees. "You don't know that."
"Know what?"
When he looked at me this time, I noticed the way his silver-grey eyes seemed to appear much darker, clouded over with something strange. "You don't know how bad it is. No one does."
I stared at him in surprise. What did he mean by that?
I wouldn't say I wasn't a bit relieved when I heard footsteps approaching us. However, when I turned around, hoping that it was some staff member or maybe even a guard, all I saw were two girls. An unfamiliar redhead and--
"Lia?" Maria spoke up and my eyes went wide.
Uh oh.
I froze in my spot and saw Alastair glancing at me before turning around himself. My eyes detached from Maria's wide ones and saw the other girl, which now that I noticed was more on the ginger side, jump up before throwing her arms around Alastair. I think he tensed up more than I did.
"Oh God, Al. Finally! They weren't letting me see you and I didn't know how or what...what happened?" She spoke in a rush, her wide eyes trained on Alastair's face.
I stared at them for a few seconds and then looked away. It felt like I was intruding on a...private moment. It wasn't like I could've stayed there and kept on staring anyway, not when Maria gripped my arm and turned me around one corner.
She had her smooth black hair tied up in a high ponytail, I noticed. And she was glaring at me.
"What are you doing here?" She asked me in a low hiss.
I didn't really say anything. I mean, what was I supposed to say? Maria was probably having all the wrong ideas now that she had seen me with Alastair.
"Are you serious?" She seemed like she couldn't believe this. "Did you know about this? Did you know about Alastair?"
"No--"
"Why else would you--Oh God, why did I even befriend you in the first place?"
I tried not to take those words to my heart, I really did, but everything was happening so fast and she wasn't even letting me speak.
"No. I didn't know. What the hell are you talking about?" I whisper hissed, not really wanting to cause a scene. One of the guards was giving me the sour look, probably keeping an eye on the visitors.
"I work here, Maria. I promise. Look," I told her before taking out my ID and showing it to her.
A look of confusion fell over her face. "But why didn't you tell me?" She asked.
"I'm just a volunteer here. Why would I go around talking about the patients?"
Realization flitted across her features. "Oh."
"Yes," I replied, furrowing my brows at her. "You really shouldn't draw up conclusions so quickly, you know." I said it like I didn't do the same most of the time.
She seemed a little apologetic but I couldn't help and notice the slight hint of doubt still left somewhere among it. Her eyes trailed behind me and they looked sad. She didn't even care to hide it properly, faking it with that impassiveness like she usually did. As if the sadness she felt right now was just too raw.
"Perhaps this is not the right time," She murmured, still staring behind me.
I followed her gaze and looked over my shoulder at Alastair and the redhead. They were a little far away and I could see how she was still trying to bombard him with questions, questions that he probably wasn't answering. He looked like he wanted to leave, but his eyes were on her, and he seemed a little...lost. Maybe even frustrated.
I looked back at Maria.
"What do you mean? Didn't you guys take the visitor IDs?" I asked her, knowing that a lot of visitors managed to make that mistake.
She looked away and sighed. "That's not what I meant."
I waited for her to correct me.
"He...he doesn't seem like he's ready for us." She hesitated before saying it, and I didn't know what to say in response. I wanted to tell her that it was fine and Alastair was getting so much better now, but I wasn't really sure about that myself.
When I said nothing, nothing to reassure her, she sidestepped me.
"Gwyn," She called out to the ginger girl. I turned around as well and watched the scene unfold before me.
The girl named Gwyn looked at Maria, then at me. She seemed a little lost too, and I felt bad for all three of them.
When Maria jerked her head behind her, in a we-need-to-go-now motion, I saw the frustration and the sadness on Gwyn's face. She looked back at Alastair before managing a small, strained smile. I saw her murmuring a few words to him, lightly squeezing his arms before she pulled away and walked towards us.
"We'll get going," Maria told me with a nod. "It was nice seeing you here."
"You know her?" Gwyn spoke up before looking at me once again, her big blue eyes fixated on me. She almost seemed horrified while stating it. Was I that horrifying?
I suppose that was my cue to introduce myself but I thought otherwise. Alastair was alone and making sure he was all right was my first priority right now.
"Yes, Gwyn. Lia is a friend of mine." Maria replied. I glanced over at her but she had that stoic expression all over again. It surprised me how quickly she managed to do that.
Just like Alastair, I realized. Except for the fact that I never really saw anything expressive on Alastair's face. Most of the things with him were just blank. Or frustrated. Or angry.
I saw Gwyn giving her an almost accusing look. "So you knew about this? But you didn't care to tell me? Do you all really think I don't care about him?"
I felt like I was highly intruding on another private conversation. And maybe Maria felt the same way since she glared at Gwyn.
Now that girl could get real scary.
"We need to leave, Gwyn. Come on." And with one last look at me, Maria turned around and left. I stayed standing there until Gwyn let out an irritated huff and turned around as well before following Maria back inside the sanitarium.
Once they both were out of sight, I looked back at Alastair and saw him still standing at the same spot. My eyes trailed down to his hands, curled into fists, clenching and unclenching at the same time. He did that a lot, I thought.
"Hey." I walked towards him. "Let's go inside, yeah?"
He didn't really object. However, when we went back into his room, he seemed like he didn't really want to register my presence either. So I told him that I'd see him at night and I left him before making sure some other staff was on rounds.
I spent the rest of my time with Mrs. Murphy.
She talked to me about flowers.
"Yes, some flowers love when it snows too," She told me with a warm laugh, right after I told her how sad I was that the snow had ended so abruptly. "Just like you."
It was sad enough that they were transferring Mrs. Murphy to some other unit, to the state hospital near her hometown. Nadia told me that Mrs. Murphy needed her family close, especially during her critical condition. I didn't want her to leave, not when I loved these little moments with her. With both of us talking about things that never really mattered to anybody else.
I'd miss her a lot, I realized.
"What are those flowers planted near your window? Seems to be a lot of them," I asked her curiously as I peeked at the little white flowers, blooming across the thin branches near her window. "Do you like them the most?"
They almost looked like little patches of irregular snow.
"Ah, they are my beloved hawthorns. I love them very dearly, yes, my favorite of them all," She told me.
I gaped at her. "Hawthorns?"
"Yes, those flowers, thornapples. They grow all around Northern England. They are quite beautiful if you see them closely."
Not really beautiful, but they could be if you had a bunch of them in your hands.
"Oh." And then I added in, "why do you like them?"
She glanced over at them and I saw the way her eyes shone.
"They've been in my life since I was a child. There was this bright hummingbird that always came over my hawthorns. I used to feel so happy when she came to visit when I was a child. She still came to visit when I grew up. Even when I got so old." She added in with a laugh. I smiled as well. "I hoped she'd come here too someday. Because of the hawthorns."
I looked over at the flowers and smiled a little sadly.
"I hope for the same if that makes you so happy, Mrs. Murphy," I murmured softly. "I'd like to see the hummingbird too someday."
I spent the next few hours there, all until it was near nighttime, talking and showing Mrs. Murphy pictures from my phone, the ones I had taken from Mum's flower shop. At one point, we started talking about my polaroids and it took me a lot to convince Mrs. Murphy that I was (a hundred percent) not a good photographer.
Why had I spent so much of my money on that camera then? Well, because it was cute. And I had a thing for collecting cute things.
I was about to leave after telling Mrs. Murphy my nightly goodbyes, but I stopped near the doorway when I heard her calling my name.
"They represent love, my dear," She told me. "They represent the need to love everyone and everything."
Later as I was making my way across the reception area, I realized Mrs. Murphy had been talking about her flowers. The hawthorns.
I had a small smile on my face going down the corridor when I saw Rowan by the gates. He was in between a conversation with one of the guards, probably unable to be let inside.
"Rowan, hey," I spoke up and both the guard's and Rowan's eyes flew at me. Rowan seemed relieved more than surprised. The guard left after giving me a narrowed look. That's actually what I saw the guards doing most of the time--giving me those looks.
"What's up?" I smiled at him.
He seemed a little out of breath. His state too was a bit disheveled, his hair messed up in every direction. As I stepped out of the threshold, I realized that it was quite windy out here, but cold still. I couldn't help but notice the tip of his nose reddening a little.
"Hey, God, I'm glad you came by before he--" He pointed at the back of the same guard who had just walked away from us. "--threw me outside."
I laughed and gestured for him to come inside. It was starting to get a little colder out here. Rowan responded by shaking his head.
"No, no, I can't. I just came by to give you this. I've probably got a few minutes to spare. Gram's waiting for me at the house."
I mumbled an oh and nodded. "Give me what?"
He stuffed his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out the familiar Walkman, holding it out to me. "I came by your apartment to give this to you, but no one was there. So I guessed you might be here."
"Oh," I repeated. "You could've given it to me tomorrow." I never really told him that the Walkman was for Alastair.
He raised his brows and smiled. "Don't you need this during your night shifts?"
I raised my brows as well. "For me?"
"I don't know. Who do you take this for?"
I felt like telling him about it would be like disclosing a top-secret. Would it be?
"A friend in here," I told him. "He...likes music."
The smile didn't leave his face. "I hope it helps him."
I took the Walkman and smiled back. "I think it does."
He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and gave me one last smile. "I should get going. See ya later?"
"Yeah. Sure." And I kept standing there, watching his silhouette fade away from the sanitarium, out in the night.
Then I trailed my gaze down at the silver Walkman in my hand, at the way it seemed to glow so hauntingly under the moonlight.