I sat in that room once more, staring back at the multiple pairs of eyes that returned the action.
"Why the hell is she sitting here again?" Grouchy huffed.
"Louis." Mrs. Claire breathed through a tight smile. "Can't you keep your negative emotions in like Vans?" I didn't even have to spare Sharp-eyes a glance and I already knew he was burning holes in his mind. "His face says it all but at least he's not being obnoxious!"
I sat among them, also questioning my motives once again.
I was up on the surface, free to go about my life again yet images of the bunker echoed in my head. The girls in that room and how they all supported each other. I wanted to be able to have people I could trust. The meals they served three times a day. I wanted to be able to live without having to worry about my growling stomach.
You'll only put them in danger.
His sound reason spoke to me gently but firmly. After all, wasn't the safety of those around me the reason I could never attach myself? When it came to them, a rare emotion surfaced again.
So what am I doing here?
I opened my eyes, and looked at Mr. Jack Simmons, the man in charge of the medical ward as examined me curiously. I felt a foreboding feeling and eyed him back wearily.
"What's your name?"
His sudden question caused the whole room to grow quiet.
Mr. Small laughed merrily . "Finally, someone's asking the right questions! Let's put our focus and attention on the one in front of us for now." He turned to me. "Please, introduce yourself!"
Rigidly and straight, I stood up and bowed to my elders as I introduced myself. "My name is Snow Roux."
Mr. Simmons suddenly stood up, the loud scraping of his chair echoed in the room. My eyes were kept shut, as I had expected his reaction.
"Jack dear?" Mrs. Claire grabbed his hand gently.
"You," he paused, "do you know a man named Wynter Roux?"
I expected it. I did. Yet my body still froze at his name.
"That's impossible right?" He questioned.
"He-" I straightened my back, "he's my father."
Mr. Simmons's jaw dropped.
"Who's that?" Grouchy squinted.
Mr. Simmons let out a small rejoiced laugh. "Who's that? Who's that?! Only the- the most known person in the medical field! Wynter Roux is the reason we've advanced so far when it comes to elemental medicine! This man saved thousands of elementalist and humans twenty years ago by creating a vaccine against the Gurens! I would not be here if that man did not exist! To find his daughter after so many years of silence is- is- is amazing!"
"The Gurens?" Mrs. Claire gasped and looked over to me. "That's amazing!"
"Hmm." Mr. Grouch grumbled while nodding slightly.
Mr. Simmons quickly ran up to my and grasped my hand. My hand shook up and down furiously as he grasped it firmly.
"It is very nice to meet you and I apologize for our first meeting. How is he doing? Where is he now? Is he okay?"
Quickly pulling myself together, I yanked my hand away from his grasp and clenched it by my side.
My hand shook from his heat as his hands were large and completely enveloped mine.
He blinked for a few moments before stepping a couple of steps back. "I've offended you, I apologize."
I swallowed the lump in my throat as a light smile escaped my lips as I looked into Mr. Simmons eyes, "He's dead."
Mr. Simmons stumbled backwards and landed into Vans's arms. Mrs. Claire mumbles a sort of apology as the rest of them glanced away from my eyes.
After a few moments of silence, Mr. Small coughed to ease the tension. "How about you introduce yourself? How did you get here?"
He motioned me to sit down and I did looking at the people in front of them.
Since you insist on staying at least don't say more than you should. Phrase your words carefully and concisely.
"My mother was taken away after the way during the collection of elementals. I was alone until I was found by an old man who took care of me until he died." Until he was murdered. Then again, he kinda had it coming.
Their eyes shifted at each other still guarded and narrowed.
"What was his name?" Mrs. Claire asked.
I looked up at her. His name? He never told me. "Miguel."
"How and when did he die?" Grouchy asked brazenly.
"He was caught as we were fleeing from some soldiers." I responded quietly. "I've been wandering since."
Sharp-eyes narrowed his eyes at me and Grouchy voiced their sharing opinion. "You really expect us to believe that someone of your age has survived this long by themselves?"
What? You think I'd survive behind an old man like you? I bit my remark and kept my straight face. "I thought I would be dead long ago too."
Sharp-eyes and Grouchy wouldn't get rid of their crinkled brow.
"Who taught you how to fight?" Sharp-eyes suddenly spoke up, causing the others to look at him with surprise. His eyes stayed glued to mine.
"Miguel taught me." I spoke carefully.
His eyebrow went up and a frown was etched on his face. He didn't believe me. This one's quick, I thought.
"An old man taught you how to fight?" Grouchy voiced his partner's thoughts.
I resisted the urge to close my eyes in annoyance. "Yes."
The continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes.
"Speaking of age," Mrs. Claire ran over them with a tight smile, "how old are you dear?"
"I-" I paused. My age? Why would anyone want that type of useless information? "Eighteen?" I guessed.
A quick and silent emotion flickered in her eyes.
"I see." She responded with a weird smile.
Mr. Small turned to look at me, a smile adorned his lips. "Your hair is white,"
Here it comes.
"-are you an ice elementalist?"
His question seemed to echo through the minds of everyone there. No doubt it would bring more help for their cause if I was. They would be able to rely on me and my powers.
"I was." I lied. "I can't call it anymore."
It was quiet for a few moments before Grouchy spoke up. "Explain."
"I don't connect with it anymore."
They glanced at Mr. Simmons, each one of them probing him to continue. "When was the last time you've attempted to use it?"
I stared at him carefully then glanced at Sharp-eyes. "When he was chasing me in the woods."
He nodded again. Looking at their reactions, it seemed that this type of thing was normal. Which made sense, broken lives bring broken people.
"The last time you've used it?"
I thought for a moment, seeing how I should connect the few dots I've given them. "When my mother was taken."
The room fell quiet. I breathed in uncomfortably, unsure of the tight feeling in my chest. Was it because I had lied or because I mentioned my mother?
Mr. Simmons leaned forward with an easy smile. "There's no need worry about your element. There's sessions I've created for individuals that are experiencing such issues."
I nodded slowly. Well, that's kinda cool I guess.
"How about other organizations? Have you joined any?" Mr. Small asked me curiously.
I shook my head as a string in my heart throbbed. "I haven't."
"None at all?" He repeated.
"No." I spoke evenly. "I run away whenever I see someone."
Sharp-eyes let out a small snort at my reply.
Thoughts swam in Mr. Small's eyes before he leaned back and grinned at his peers. "Any more questions?"
They glanced at each other and at the floor but no one responded.
"Great! So we'll individually talk about your placement as someone gets you permanently set up. Claire?"
"On it." She stood up and walked to the door, whispering a few words at the guard's ears. He nodded at pulled at his walkie. "Someone's on their way."
Mr. Small nodded and glanced back at me. "I hope you come to see why we continue to fight. I pray that you'll become someone stronger and full of hope. Someone who won't coward away at the thought of helping someone, or run away when things get sticky. Most of all I hope you'll find your reason to live."
Again. His eyes were full of confidence and hope. I wanted to dive into those eyes, drown myself in that hope. I hope so too. I glanced down at my hands, which were picking at each other.
"Oh! Can someone tell Lex to call Parker for me? I'd like to speak to him."
I looked up. Parker. Why was the name so familiar? I thought of every nameless face I could think of and none of them seemed to fit the bill. Was he important? Probably not.
"You can wait right outside while they come for you." Mrs. Claire pulled me from my chair and ushered me out of the room.
I didn't even get to glance at her face before the door was shut again.
"Didn't think you'd come back."
I turned to look at the guard who stood by the door to see a familiar face. Sneaker-boy looked at me with a grin and soft eyes. Quite the contrary to what he initially greeted me with a week ago.
I squinted before looking down the hall without another word.
"I was hoping you'd stay." He chuckled. "You fight good after all."
His comment made me look back at him. Did my beating make him go crazy? Does he need another one in order to go back to himself? I internally shook my head and went back to the hall.
"If you have time, would you like to fight me?" He asked moving his body so he was in my line of view.
I stared at him, knowing that if I didn't reply he wouldn't leave me alone. "Do you like losing?"
He laughed and shook his head. "Nah. I just figured I'd learn more if I fought you."
He's weird. I don't like him.
I ignored his voice. He's looking to improve. "Hmm."
"So is that a yes?" He probed.
I didn't bother responding this time.
He grinned. "Great! How about we do Sundays? I think Sundays will be fine since there's little to none activities and I personally-"
He continued. Did I listen to him drone on? Obviously not. Instead I moved my right ankle in a circular motion. A feeling of relief pulled over me as I felt the rough metal of my pocket knife.
The pocket knife had been through pretty much everything with me. I grabbed it from the first abandoned residence I entered, an old RV. I rotated my ankle again by habit.
I heard a loud squeal and the scuffle of a lame leg. I looked up to see Arianna limping towards me with extended arms. I froze, glancing at every direction. What does one do in these types of situations? I can't exactly avoid it, nether can I attack her for it.
We finally made contact as her arms wrapped around my rigid ones. She brought me to her neck as tightly as she could.
"I knew you'd come back." She whispered happily. "Okay, maybe not but I hoped you did."
"What made you decide to stay?" She said while pulling back. I glanced at her hands which laid on my elbows. She immediately raised her hands. "I'm sorry! I forgot you don't like touching!"
Her lingering warmth stung now that she had pulled away.
I stared at the way she blinked at me, searching my eyes for a sort of answer in which I had none. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I came back. I just- I wanted more.
She smiled softly. "It's okay, all that matters is that you're back."
"Did you want me to come back?" My words were barely a whisper, yet they came out on their own. I quickly shut my mouth and hoped she didn't hear me.
"Of course I did!"
My heart leaped. Why? The question still lingered on my head. Why did she want me to come back?
"Come on, let's go."
Just as we begin to walk away the voice behind us finally spoke up again.
"See ya later Snow." He grinned, his eyes squinting into crescent moons.
It took me a second before realizing that Arianna had called my name out loud.
"Don't talk to her!" Arianna whipped her head and growled.
"What's it to you Ari?" He sneered.
She turned to me with a frown. "Don't talk to garbage."
I glanced at the 'garbage' with narrowed eyes.
"Don't listen to her."
I looked at Arianna who stuck out her lips like a child. "Let's go." I muttered quietly and began to walk down the hallway.
I heard Arianna blow her tongue at Sneaker-boy before joining me.
"I'm excited to do everything with you!" She grinned. "Since you stayed in your room most of the time, you didn't realize we actually do a lot around here. We do art classes, dances, gardening-"
My hand clutched the sleeve of her sweater and forced her to stop. She glanced at me before looking at the direction of my vision.
The red headed boy stood in the middle of the hall. I examined his face for an idea of what he might be thinking. I only got confused. He demonstrated different facial features at once. His eyebrows were scrunched, his eyes were wide, his mouth twisted in some odd form.
But I think I could see... relief?
I eyed him as he sauntered over me with a goofy grin. His eyes became a magnetic force in which my eyes couldn't pull away from.
His large hand reached over to me. "It seems like you'll be staying with us huh?"
I looked at his hand wearily and ran the idea through my head a thousand times. Was it a good idea? Was I really to voluntarily grab peoples hands?
Don't touch it. It's dirty.
I realized his hand was about to drop, so I placed my hand in his deciding to take the risk anyway.
A surge of warm nostalgia flowed through my hand and into my arm.
I shuddered as he introduced himself, "It's nice to meet you, my name's Parker Small."
I quickly pulled my arm away. So he's Parker. Upon hearing his name in the interrogation room, I decided to give him a one over.
His hair, which is painfully obvious, was a mop of red fiery curls with eyes that did not back away. Oh. The resemblance clicked in my head. His uncle was Mr. Small. That meant Parker had some sort of influence around the camp. I glanced at his clothing. Well kept. I recalled the feeling of his hand. Smooth and warm. Which meant he wasn't used to real fighting or training.
I gave him a curt nod. "Snow Roux."
His eyes widened and he stepped back in shock. "I- I uh didn't expect you to tell me your name."
I bit my tongue.
The grin on his face came back in a flash. "I'm glad."
He's weird, I thought.