The Wounded Boy at my Window

Brook finds Jack suffering and bleeding out at her window, and spills the beans on knowing his secret.

I was stuck between fiction and reality as my eyes shot open and my body was forced to bolt upright in my bed. I could even feel the bloodshot redness on my eyes as soon as they took in that sudden strain of moonlight. The dim glow made its way between the two white curtains that blew from the freezing wind. Suddenly I regretted loving the cold, as Sylvia was even rolling about uncomfortably. I felt so guilty�"leaving the window open for my own needs and making her freeze to death in her sleep. Oh wait… I hated her.

Then again, ‘hate’ is mainly referred to as a strong and powerful word. This comes from Miss Sam, the other orphans, and sometimes even Danton said that as well. But me… I’m different. If stating my feelings toward someone includes the word ‘hate,’ then sure enough I hate them.

But the feeling of being so irresponsible really got to me for some reason. I felt so guilty that I could have sworn that I was hearing those rude and creepy voices ringing throughout my head. Perhaps it was only one voice, but that didn’t mean that it was a good one. It was kind of like a harsh little whisper, like a scolding kind of thing. This is another thing I can’t describe. I wish I could… okay�"I’ve got it. So imagine a demon-like voice hissing some kind of evil chant. That is exactly what I heard.

Curious, I slipped from beneath my bed sheets and looked around my room. Seeing the digital clock on my dresser, I found that it was only three thirty in the morning. This wasn’t anything new for me�"waking up this early in the morning because of some kind of memory that came back to haunt me. And as strange as it seems, that memory with the snow white haired boy always seemed to come about. The more I thought about it, the more I started to regret looking out my window that night.

I climbed down the ladder quietly and let my bare soles press against the cold, wooden floor. As usual, Miss Sam had us wear this white nightgowns to bed. Sylvia didn’t pull it off very well, but I wouldn’t say I did either. Either way, mine blew along with the white curtains that hung in front of the window. My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the window, as that was where the demon chant was coming from. I couldn’t quite make out the words, but the closer I got to the window, the more I could tell that it was a male voice.

I wrapped my arms around myself, as I began to feel colder and colder. The words were more clear then. In fact, it didn’t sound like a chant anymore. “Please, don’t do this to me! You promised me no death!” And those were the words of the terrifying demon voice I thought I had been hearing.

As I approached the window, frozen to the point where I thought that my fingers and limbs were about to fall off, I narrowed my eyes even more. I couldn’t see much outside, as that tree wasn’t there any longer. The green life was falling apart around my window, but there was always that small ledge beneath it that I used to sit on when I was younger. And as I looked out the window, leaning out to the point where the wind was slicing through my skin, I could barely see much.

But I knew that wasn’t all�"not the snow, at least. There was a whimpering sound, kind of like someone was crying. This came from a voice a bit older than mine, and the words that were previously spoken shook with some kind of fear. You’d think that they’d shake from the cold, but of course that was something that this person was probably immune to. I knew this as well, because when I first saw him, I recognized him immediately.

That hair… those eyes… everything was exactly the same. For some reason, the boy from my dreams was panting on the little ledge of the window, holding his side as the tears streamed down his face in agony. Although he looked like he was on the edge of death, I couldn’t help but just stare in awe at his face, which I had to lean over far to see. He was facing the city, not the building. But his paleness made him stick out like a neon colour compared to a regular one. It was like he was some kind of abandon child who turned into something magical.

As I said nothing�"just clutched the windowsill like a naïve little girl, I examined him more closely. His hands were pushing firmly down on his right ribs. His teeth were clenched, as if he was biting onto something for stress relief. But any harder and he probably would have broken his teeth. He was slumped back against the brick wall, leaning back and panting heavily. He whimpered a little more, and that was enough to cut the line.

I knew I had to do something. But what I’d do was beyond my knowledge. I didn’t want to startle him, of course. But then again, what about him? He was bleeding terribly. If I’d leave him, obviously his family would never forgive me. I gulped and licked my lips a little, fidgeting and trembling as my hands shook violently. I could see the headlines. ‘Boy dies of stab wound or whatever and falls from window ledge. Fourteen year old Brook is a witness, yet she had done nothing about the boy who was alive in her sight.’ That was it! I leaned over the windowsill a little more and cleared my throat before saying, “What happened?” For once, I was rather pleased with my wording.

Right then, the boy stopped breathing abruptly, as if something had suddenly stabbed him in the heart. He did nothing for a moment�"just held that wound of his, which so far I was assuming was from a stabbing. But after a long pause, he threw his head back quickly to stare his ice blue eyes into my dark brown ones, just staring and violating my soul. That was what it felt like, at least. I had such a wintery feeling then. The snow, the wind, the cold, and this boy who looked like he fit right in with it. And of course I remembered him when I first saw him. But the strange thing was that he didn’t seem to age. The last time I saw him was about eight years ago. He looked sixteen then, but sure enough he looked nothing like he was in his twenties. Everything about him was literally the exact same… even the clothes. Poor boy.

Even though it seemed like he’d be from an abusive family that gave him no other clothing that just that outfit of brown pants and a grey hoodie, he spoke rather clearly and fearless-like. “Brook, go to sleep. You can’t see�"”

“Nonsense, boy,” I hissed, this time a bit more animated as I leaned further out the window to grab his underarms. I shook my head when he tried to pull away, and effortlessly pulled him up so he was standing on the ledge. He was freezing, and even his arms seemed like legit ice! “You’re hurt. What happened? And once again, how do you know my name? And why do you look the same? How�"”

The icy boy rolled his eyes before keeping his left arm crossed over his wound, and forcing his right hand down onto my mouth. He cut me right off, but thinking of how rude that was didn’t come to my mind. There were so many other things to think about, like how his hand on my mouth was like standing in a freezer. The coldness ran throughout my veins as he touched me, and I stumbled back a little.

The boy cackled a little and moved his right hand back to apply pressure to his wound. “Well you try standing in the cold for centuries and not be freezing,” he said with a bit of amusement tugging at his tone. The tears still fell however, and I could tell he was faking a smile. He just stood there panting, somehow managing to still hold himself upright.

I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side a bit. “You’re exaggerating. Come off it and get your cold butt in here,” I gasped warily before walking toward him again, only to use my shaky hands to grab his forearm. I was concerned as I pulled him in, as he just stumbled about a bit and almost even fell to the ground from the elevation of the window. But waking Sylvia was a chance I wouldn’t take. Therefore, in hope to probably get the freezing and bleeding boy away from the sleepers, I led him to the bathroom. This was down the hall, however.

“Exaggerating on what?” the boy asked without making an effort to not wake the other kids. He seemed so naïve, however. It was like he was some kind of child. For someone that is probably in their twenties, this boy seemed to be rather unknowing. Not in a bad way, but kind of like a playful way. So being nice, I turned around, still holding his forearm to shush him slightly.

“Being in the cold for centuries,” I hissed when we finally made it down the dark hall and to the outside of the bathroom. I looked under the crack of the door in case there was a yellow light coming out, but of course there wasn’t. I sighed in relief, and kicked the door open so I could just throw him in carelessly. For by that time, I couldn’t care less about keeping quiet.

The boy stumbled about the bathroom, which was rather small. It was kind of like a normal house one with a shower that we somehow managed to squeeze into the corner. But even though the spacing was kind of small, the boy seemed rather astonished with it. He looked around, his soul-piercing eyes wide with wonder. His eyes landed on the shower. I was so clueless of why he was so amazed with this. But at that time, I just assumed that he was either poor or abused. Of course he’d be astonished with a rather classy bathroom. “This is something else,” he breathed before suddenly getting another sharp pain in his ribs. He clutched them, and groaned before sinking to his knees. His eyes shot up into mine before he gasped, “Got something to help?”

Staring into his eyes, finally seeing how beautiful he was in normal lightning only made me shiver a bit before I could manage a nod. “I’ll get some gauze tape,” I mumbled clumsily before scrambling for the door handle. When I was out, I gave him a reassuring nod before silently closing the door. Within seconds, I was charging down the hall in my nightgown in search for the cabinet along the walls near the nurse office. Of course they wouldn’t be in the office, only because they locked it up at night. The nurse only came at noon, and leaving her special supplies like bandages and gauze tape locked up during the night wasn’t such a good idea. Someone could get seriously hurt. Take that boy for example�"no one would have been ready for that.

“Gauze, gauze, gauze,” I whispered quickly to myself as I searched frantically through the cabinets. I threw the painkillers out of the way, but regretted it immediately. But ignoring the fact that perhaps the boy was in a lot of pain, I saw some disinfectant in the back of the cabinet. I knew he could definitely use that. I snatched that up and clutched it in my left hand as I thrashed about the cabinet. In the end, I ended up finding the gauze tape right in front of me. I was used to looking for the purple kind, but it was the normal white kind. Gauze tape isn’t gauze tape unless it’s purple. Yay purple.

I sighed in relief and used the side of my head to shut the cabinet door before creeping down the hall, and almost past Miss Sam’s room. I stopped in the middle of a light beam that the moon shot through one of the windows. This was when I found out that Miss Sam’s room door was open the whole time. I crept along the wall, hissing a few explicit words to myself before peeking in and narrowing one eye.

Miss Sam rolled over my way for a second, but her idiotic eyes didn’t open one bit as she began snoring all over again. That woman was traumatizing.

I sighed in relief, and smiled a little to myself as I searched for that yellow light under the crack of the bathroom door. I smiled a bit when I saw that as well and moved the gauze and disinfectant to my left hand before using my right one to open the door. I didn’t look around the bathroom yet until I shut the door behind myself and turned around to see something just… weird. “I’ve got the�"”

I stopped when I saw the blood on the ground. Everything was as it should be, but sadly there was no boy. He wasn’t in there. I rolled my eyes, and whined, “You’ve got to be kidding!”

After that, I roamed the bathroom a little before coming to my senses to use some toilet paper to clean up the blood. I got down on my hands and knees, pushing my medical supplies off to the side as I mumbled to myself, “Comes into the orphanage… makes a mess and leaves… so selfish and rude. Cheeky… suffering…” I paused. “…cute…” I blushed then, and pursed my lips just a little.

When I was done cleaning up the blood, I looked up to the window, which was shut completely. I opened it up and slipped the toilet paper out the window, figuring that it was a far enough drop for us to never find it again. Besides, it was too much to flush away. I sighed as I pulled the window shut, the wind biting at my face and making me feel all frozen inside. It wasn’t the good feeling either. It was like a broken feeling�"a feeling that made me feel abandoned all over again. I seriously couldn’t believe that I’d trust someone who I had been dreaming about over the past eight years of my life. How could I even think about taking care of someone I didn’t even know?

It wasn’t real… he wasn’t real and I didn’t need him anyway. I had Danton. That is, if he’d ever come back to save me from this dark prison. But it was time to face reality�"Danton probably wasn’t real either.

Now that I had made myself even more depressed than I needed to be, I eyed the medical supplies I had set on the ground. Knowing that I’d probably need them eventually, as Sylvia and Miss Sam aren’t nice toward children, I picked them up and tucked them under my arm. That was when I sighed and marched out the bathroom, shutting the light off and starting for my room again.

* * * *

It was about seven in the morning when I found myself wide awake as usual. I could hear the younger ones downstairs running around, screaming their little hearts out as they played in the living room with the other kids. I smiled a little when I saw that Sylvia wasn’t in her bed. She must have gone off to some kind of adoption interview, because deep down she wanted a family as well.

I slipped from my bed and ended up brushing my hair quickly. No make-up or anything like that ever really interested me, only because I was an orphan who was trapped with a billion brothers and sisters of mine. They were the only people I’d ever see, and sure enough I wouldn’t want to impress any of them. That day I chose to wear a blue sweater and a pair of jeans. Screw shoes.

But just as soon as I started for the door, I realized something funny. It was the window�"one of the curtains had fallen in the middle of the night. At first, as I slowly started to walk toward it, I has assumed that perhaps the wind had blown it off. But that was when I saw the main thing�"the gauze tape was all torn up like a desperate savage needed to apply pressure to a stab wound. I gawked down at this for about a minute before chuckling, “What in the…”

I tucked some hair behind my ear as I kneeled down to pick it up and examined it. A smile crossed over my face when I saw that there was blood seeping into some parts of the tape. I rolled my eyes and sighed, “Sylvia… another can opening accident I assume.”

I know it might have sounded crazy and all, but I was trying to keep my mind anywhere but from what had happened the night before. Besides, it was all probably a dream. A realistic, scary, and vivid dream.

I smirked and set the gauze up onto the windowsill, and as I was halfway to my feet, that look on my face turned into a suspicious glare. Slowly I examined the windowsill, taking in the strange colour and texture of the spilled disinfectant that had somehow hardened on the wood. I narrowed my eyes and mumbled, “What?” I reached forward with my left hand to touch the strange disinfectant that looked to be frozen into points that hung at the ends of the windowsill. It was literally frozen, and a bit of frost layered the top of it.

That was the most peculiar thing I’ve ever seen. I knew that I would have to clean it up. But in the end, as I started for my door to get some paper towels from the bathroom, I looked over my shoulder to stare out the window one more time. That was when everything started to process.

The boy that I tried to help last night… never in my life had I seen anyone like him before. I don’t think anyone has. His hair was snow white, his eyes were ice blue�"so blue that it was unbelievable. His skin was pale, even though for some people that was normal. But still, even his skin temperature was nothing but ice as I touched it. If he was out in the cold for that long, how did he not die? How could he only cry over a stab wound and not how cold he was? And let’s be honest, it wasn’t that cold outside for that disinfectant to freeze on its own, and sure enough it didn’t open on its own.

Even when I was six, his breath was like below zero degree air biting at my face. His touch was cold and deadly… it snowed harder and the wind blew more rapidly whenever he was around the night before this day. But how could it be?

I knew then. I knew very well, even though in my wildest dreams I never would have thought that this kind of figure would have existed. Sure enough I was going to bust him.

As I smirked and left the room, I could only imagine what I’d have to do to get him to come back that night. First of all, I just wanted to rub it in his face that I had caught him. Second of all, he would probably need a gauze change. Third of all, he was kind of… okay he was very attractive. He didn’t smell too bad either. His skin smelled like peppermint when he put his hand over my mouth. I guess that would make sense.

“Listen up brat, I’m going to that interview tonight at eight. If you come in and interrupt me like you did before, I’ll�"”

“Skin me alive and hang my bones on the clothesline,” I mumbled with a roll of my eyes as Sylvia finished applying her lipstick in my dresser mirror. I hated when she’d do that. She was leaning all over my stuff and violating my personal property like it was her own. She had no manners whatsoever.

“That’s right,” she sang before blowing her reflection a kiss. She loudly capped the lipstick before shoving it in my underwear drawer. I just… I don’t even…

She swung around to do a little spin for me. She wore a pink miniskirt and a white sweater, along with these black high heels. Her long, blonde hair was curled all the way down to the middle of her back. “How do I look?” she asked, doing another quick spin.

I sighed, and put my notebook and pen down on my lap. I sat up against the wall on the top bunk on my bed, and leaned in on my elbows just to look at her exaggeratedly, as if I actually cared about what she looked like. I hummed as if I was some kind of professional examiner, just pretending to be taking in every last bit of her when I was actually just staring into space. “Oh, love!” I gasped loudly in my worst English accent. I threw my hands up, and flipped my notepad over.

Sylvia cringed down a little, and rolled her eyes.

“It’s winter! Way to choose the s****y look just to be�"” she left and slammed the door, but I continued even louder and faster “�"attractive to people who want an innocent child! S**T!” Although I felt kind of bad for yelling those kind of things at her, it wasn’t like she never said those things to me. After all, she was a hurtful person.

But what I hate most of all is when people say to me, ‘You don’t know what’s going on in her head. She could be hurt.’ Well, I’d like to see the millions of scars on HER arms, the millions of black eyes that SHE has had, and the ‘terrible’ feeling of just being let go the day she was born, never to know her parents and not know the suffering of being addicted to someone you can’t let go of. Where is her pain? Where are her tears? I live with her. She never fakes a smile. I know. And she’s had a million adoption interviews. I’ve had�"what? Four in all of my life?

She doesn’t take into consideration my black eye, my scars, and the fact that I’ve actually seen my parents love another baby after kicking me out. That doesn’t feel good, and the last thing I need is her bashing on me and making me feel hideous! I don’t need another teenager hurting me! What I need is Danton. Sometimes I’d wish he’d just show up so I could cry to him. I just miss him so much that I can’t take it anymore! I want him back so badly. No one could replace him. I love him so much.

But he’s gone. He’s never coming back.

The night was actually dark, even though it was like seven thirty. Sylvia was already downstairs with Miss Sam, who was preparing one of the interviewing rooms on the first floor. She enjoyed preparing interviews for Sylvia, only because the beautiful girl lit up the room. Miss Sam said that I just dulled it out because I never dress up. I don’t need to dress up. I’m fine. I surely don’t feel like it, but somewhere deep down there’s some self esteem in me.

By then, after Sylvia had shut the door, I climbed down the ladder to run to the window, which had just enough fog for me to draw a picture. But of course I wasn’t going to do that. I had better things to do. I threw the window open, feeling the violent wind and letting some snow burst into my room. Immediately, I ran to my dresser to get some gauze and some more disinfectant. I found another bottle in the cabinet. I looked back at the window, which was actually starting to fog up a bit more. I smirked and listened as I could hear some bare feet hit the ledge of the window. And bingo was his name-o!

This time I let him come to me, although I felt like I was treating him like a puppy. I stood in front of the window, leaving some space for him to climb through if he would. In my right hand was the gauze, and in my left was the disinfectant. I had this cheeky little smile on my face, as I just couldn’t hold back the pride within me as the boy just simply climbed through my window, and brushed himself off.

Once again, he looked no different than the night before. The only difference was that the blood on his hoodie was dry then. But there was still a big tear in the side. I could see the bloody gauze behind it, and the boy looked up at me bashfully when he caught me looking at it. “I’m sorry I left. I got so bored in the bathroom, and when I came back you were sleeping,” he said before giving me an apologetic smile.

I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes. “You’ve woken me up before. You don’t seem to mind disturbing me randomly,” I sighed teasingly before leading him to the bathroom all over again.

He rolled his icy eyes and followed me. Even as he was in my presence, I could feel how cold he was. It was crazy how someone could live with themselves like that. He moved his hands as he spoke. “I didn’t want to wake you up twice in one night. And what do you mean ‘disturbing you randomly?’ I’ve never met you before.”

“And we all know that that’s a lie, Jack!” I laughed as I let him walk in the bathroom before I shut the door behind him. As we both chuckled, for we both remember the time when I was six, we didn’t realize what I had just said.

I spilled the beans! Even Jack didn’t believe it for a split second, but as he laughed, shaking his head, he turned around slowly to look me in the eyes. How could I let the secret of me knowing slip so easily? How could I do that to him�"to myself? Now everything was ruined. As I scolded myself mentally, I didn’t catch him gawking at me with his eyes wide in terror.

There was a pause when even my mind went silent. The two of us just stood there, our eyes working each other’s as we let my mistake hang in the air. But after a moment of awkward silence, he slowly walked over to me, letting his freezing surroundings brush against my arms as well. I looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. I wasn’t willing to look into his eyes. “How… when…? You’re just…”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “It’s pretty obvious. The fact that you didn’t age since I was six, your skin, your hair, eyes, and you’re so cold. This morning I found the frozen disinfectant on my window�"”

“It didn’t thaw?” Jack asked, a bit exasperated. He let his hands roam up to his hair so he could tug at it a little in worry. He backed away in fear, and I could have sworn that he was going to let a few tears fall. As his back hit the window, the window started to fog up to the point where ice even started to appear on it. I gasped and pointed at it, dropping the gauze.

“See? I told you!” I cried, backing up against the door in fear myself. I wrapped my arms around myself. My dark eyes were wide�"perhaps so much that he thought that I was afraid of him. I even shivered a bit, and of course I couldn’t feel anymore guilty.

Jack narrowed his eyes and whispered, “Don’t run away! I-I… I can explain!” He held his hands out in front of himself, as if to show that he wasn’t going to hurt me. “I promise I wont hurt you. I promised a long time ago that I’d protect you. I intend to keep that promise.”

There was another pause, and I didn’t realize that I was panting in fear. I guess it was my first time actually witnessing real magic. Of course I was going to be scared. But I said nothing. One wrong move and I was bound to make him cry. Watching someone as amazing as him cry hurt me so much.

Either way, Jack sighed and looked down at the ground, letting his arms go limp. He let his cold gaze stare at the floor tiles as he pulled away from the window, keeping his thin, pink lips pursed. When he took a step toward me, I did the best I could not to run away. I swore when I was a kid that I’d never run away from him. So I just watched as he examined the ground a bit more before eyeing the gauze. He smirked before bending down to pick it up. He looked up at me and mumbled, “I need help with this, please.”

* * * *

We sat on the bottom bunk of my bed then. I was shaking the disinfectant in the bottle. He sat in Indian style while I sat with one leg tucked in, and one hanging off the edge of the bed. Luckily, it wasn’t even eight o clock yet. Sylvia’s meeting wasn’t going to start until eight, and of course I had time to fix Jack up before she’d come back.

I had the same look on my face, and it was just a rather bored expression as I kept my index finger over the cap of the bottle. My only light was that one dim lamp on the other side of the room, and of course if I’d spill that disinfectant, I wouldn’t be able to see where I’d be cleaning. I was going to try to be as careful as possible.

Jack sat there, glancing from the bottle to my face, bottle to my face, bottle to my face. He folded his hands awkwardly over his pale, bare feet. He sighed impatiently multiple times, and each time I tried to ignore it. But when he started to whistle, I about lost it.

My face turned a little red from rage when I stopped shaking the bottle. I grabbed a tissue from the box on my nightstand before soaking it in the disinfectant. “Why did you freeze the other bottle?” I asked almost emotionlessly as I examined the amount I put on the tissue�"just enough to clean his wound.

Jack sighed and looked at the tissue cowardly. “I tried putting it on, but it stung really badly. I jumped away and froze it. I think it was because I was angry or whatever. It just hurt me.” And with that, she shrugged.

I sighed, and shrugged as well. “And you thought it would thaw? I would have thought the same thing. But you know, you’re Jack Fr�"” I stopped, because even as I would say it, I would feel like a complete idiot for even thinking that this kid was the reason why I slipped many times in public, got colds, and got stuck in a blizzard with Danton. I stuttered a little on his name, but I shrugged it off in the end. “I bet your ice just lasts longer than normal for that reason.”

Jack sighed, and flinched a little when he saw the disinfectant. I could tell that he really didn’t want to apply it, but deep down he was sure that he had no choice.

I pursed my lips and stared down at the tear in his jacket. I could easily tell that he tried to put the gauze over the rip instead of wrapping it around himself. I knew he’d have to do that, because losing that much blood could only call for drastic steps. So I held up the tissue, and nodded. “Go on, then,” I said.

Jack stared at me for a minute. He looked around the room before looking back at me. “Pardon?” he asked, leaning in a little.

I sighed, and whispered, “Take off the hoodie, Jack,” as if it was the most obvious thing ever. I could feel the medicine drying on the tissue.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “But I�"”

“Do you want to die of an infection? It’s not impossible for you to die!” I said rather loudly. I was being kind of pushy, yes. But it only meant that he’d move a bit faster. Then I could get some back story.

Jack raised his hands a little in surrender, and said, “Sorry, sorry!” He bowed his head a little, flashing me his snow white hair and almost blinding me with it. That was when he wrapped his fingers around the bottom of his gray hoodie, and lifted it up over his head.

Now the ladies know that I’ve got to describe this. As Jack dropped his hoodie to the floor, I couldn’t help but stare a little. It wasn’t like he was completely built to the point where he looked like his body was all he cared about, but let me say that he was… HELLO. Oh my… it was. Mama’s home! But I had to snap out of this as quickly as possible, as the bloody gauze stuck out like a sore thumb compared to his pale skin. I pursed my lips and tried not to blush as I simply removed the gauze, trying to keep myself from growing queasy, though the bleeding had stopped slightly. The wound wasn’t so dirty.

I sighed and put some more disinfectant on the tissue before breathing out. I reached forward a little, just a centimeter away from the gash. I wasn’t going to ask where it was from. Probably from a tree. I looked up at his face, which was wincing a little. I smirked and chuckled, “Are you ready?”

“Just do it,” he said rather quickly and forcefully as he looked away into the palms of his hands like a child. “Don’t yell if I scream.”

I gave him an evil eye real quickly before suddenly pressing the tissue to his cut. Surprisingly, Jack only flinched back just a little. He hissed and gasped, trying to hold back his tears of pain all over again. He let his hands wring against the blue bed sheets. “Brook, hurry up!” he whimpered.

I smiled and pulled away the disinfectant before throwing the tissue into a Shop and Save bag that I used for the garbage. “It’s over, it’s over,” I said comfortingly. I quickly reached for the gauze tape and got on my knees. I leaned in a bit while unwrapping some of the tape to meet his size. Placing some of it on the side of the wound, I muttered, “You’re fine, just hold still.”

Jack sat still for a moment before slowly moving his hands down to his lap, and then held them out so I could wrap the gauze around him. As I got to the back, I had to lean my head over his shoulder a little. This was a bit awkward. And it was a good thing that I liked the cold, because his surrounding air was all over me by then. He even still smelled like peppermint! I continued wrapping the gauze around him until his wound was completely patched up.

I sat back on my heels and examined my work. I smirked and looked into his eyes. “See? You’re fine.” Everything was perfect then, but the only thing missing was a jacket… even though I wouldn’t mind him going about shirtless. But if it would make him more comfortable, then whatever.

I slipped away from my bed and strode over to my dresser, throwing my clothes to the floor in search for something appropriate for him to wear. My hoodies were always bigger on me, but I’d think that he’d wear clothes smaller than mine. He was just taller than me. But when he pursued me, I found myself at the bottom hoodie of the bottom drawer. It was Danton’s old blue hoodie that he gave me when we were stuck with no heat in the winter. As I held it up in front of myself, I sighed. I never wore it, and I guess it was good o get rid of memories that would only hurt me.

I turned around to see Jack’s blank stare. His eyes were frozen on the hoodie for a second, but then he looked at me and shook his head. “I can’t take that�"”

“Just take it,” I insisted, pushing it into his arms and kissing my only remembrance of Danton goodbye. I turned to look at the window, which was still open. I thought of Sylvia and what she would think of Jack. They probably would get along. Perhaps too much… Sylvia was seventeen, and Jack looked about sixteen. She’d fall for him and I’d be left in the dust all over again.

By time I looked over at Jack, he was already in the hoodie�"good as new like nothing bad had ever even happened. He shrugged and looked up at me. “Thanks for helping me out. It means a�"”

“I can’t believe they didn’t want me!” I heard that girly voice shriek outside of the door. It was Sylvia, and sure enough she was turned down because of that miniskirt. That’s right, everyone could see through her whorish ways.

I widened my eyes and grabbed Jack’s arm. I pushed him toward the window in panic. “Go, go! She’s going to flip when she sees you! Get out, get OUT!”

I wrestled him until I finally pushed him out the window. He gasped and grabbed onto the windowsill. “Can you at least wait for the wind?!” he hissed angrily. Apparently that was how he got around… that was just was I was assuming from him.

I waved at him and went to shut my window when I could hear Sylvia slump against the door. I rolled my eyes and had the window half shut, but that pale hand shot up to keep it open. Jack gritted his teeth and climbed up so our noses were barely touching. “Listen, hear me out. I need to see you again.”

Sylvia tried opening the door, and I turned back to Jack. “Okay, okay! Go!” I tried to pry his hand off of the window, but he wouldn’t move.

He shook his head, and stared at me coldly with those dazing eyes. “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow. It’s a surprise though!”

I laughed when he shot me a cheeky smile, and let me shut the window. But of course, Sylvia was in the room by then. Her makeup was running, and I turned around just in time to see it. I stared at her for a long time, hoping that she wouldn’t mention that I was jumpy, or question why I slammed the window. Instead, she just looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and muttered, “What are you looking at?”

I rolled my eyes and turned around, only to see the moonlight. Of course, casting a small shadow over the moon, I could see that rotten boy flying excitedly. Free, laughing, smiling… and I was going to see him again. “An angel,” I answered Sylvia before nodding and walking toward my bed, barely able to hold myself up from the weakness in my knees. Call me crazy, but I think I was in love.

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems.
More chapters are to come.

Reviews

[Katrina Lynn.]

I love this story! The first chapter grabbed me and made me feel for brook.
I can't wait to read future chapters.

[Jeremia]

You have an innocence to your writing. I like it. You write as if you were the girl. Kinda like a journal entry. It is good.

[Krista]

Thank you. It means a lot.