Mom and Dad are fighting. Again… And for nothing! The school bus was canceled because of snow and here they go, yelling as if their life depended on it.
Torn between anger and apathy, I get up, get dressed, grab my keys and my brother, and head out to the silence.
“Chloe, why are they screaming?” Dan asks, fastening his seatbelt. “Snow’s not their fault, right?”
Surprised by such a naive, yet relevant question, I turn on the ignition, and think for two seconds. On edge because of the rude awakening, I take a deep breath and answer in a kind voice.
“You know, I don’t think they actually care about the snow or even the bus. Sometimes, people feel so unhappy they try to vent their pain on what’s nearby, which often includes the ones they love most.”
He stammers, his confusion evident. “But if they love us, and we’re sad because of them, doesn’t it make them sad as well?”
“Yeah…”
I’d love to explain to him why humans do stupid stuff, to reveal some great truth about life and psychology, but it’s too erratic for me to get and I’m way to sleepy for that anyway—so I sigh and turn the music up a few notches, hoping to take our minds off this depressing topic.
The journey to school typically takes around ten minutes by car, but the thick layer of snow on the road, the dark winter night, and the constant stream of swirling snowflakes end up doubling its duration.
When we reach the big gray building serving as the town’s elementary school, Sasha Alex Sloan’s songs seem to have soothed Dan. Eager to meet up with his friends and play in the snow, his face lights up and he leaps out of the car, almost forgetting his bag on the back seat.
With a sense of accomplishment, I restart the family car’s tired engine and set off in the opposite direction. On the way home, my mind wanders with the twists and turns and I find myself thinking back to when I was his age. I remember when I first put words on my feelings for Jess, my best friend at the time. I remember my first hair dye, paid by Dad behind Mom’s back. I remember my first breakup, and all the successive romantic setbacks that followed—discouraging me from daring the slightest emotional attachment for a while. I think back to the blessed days when everything was fine, or rather when my childlike naiveté waved a bunch of keys at me to distract my gaze from the “adult problems” and all the bad stuff in life. My childhood was far from perfect, but nostalgia has a way of making you find a silver lining to anything, even the worst. As I contemplate it, I realize that the tapestry of my past is sewn with a mixture of happy and sad, of loving memories and heartbreaks. I understand that I am all of it, but also much more.
Hypnotized by the infinite snowflakes waltz in front of me and lulled by the soft melody on the car radio, my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. I blink once, twice, and then just long enough to lose track.
###
It’s the middle of the afternoon and I’m lying in a bed in a white room with large windows. I try to sit up, but something feels wrong—my legs won’t cooperate. I lift the blanket to check on them, but everything seems fine from the outside. My head, on the other hand, aches like hell.
How did I get here? What is here, actually? And shit, what happened to my legs?!
Dazed and confused, I pull myself up with my arms and lean my back against the bed headboard. I look to my left and notice a bunch of wilted flowers adorning my bedside table. A paper with my name is attached to the bouquet. I reach out to grab it, but almost fall off the bed in the process.
“Who’s the genius who put that so far away?” I grumble aloud as I sit back again.
“Ha, that! A recurring complaint for sure,” responds an unfamiliar voice in a playful tone. “Gotta admit, my old man never was a great designer.”
Their… old man? Baffled, I turn my head to the right and find someone in a blue uniform and a surgeon mask pushing a cart through the room’s entrance. The slender silhouette speaks with an androgynous voice. My guess is they’re rather young, one or two years older than me perhaps, but their outfit shrouds the rest in mystery.
My mind still half asleep, I can’t afford to think before I speak and let out “And you are…?” They lift their hands in the air swiftly with their eyes wide open, as if I was pointing a gun at them. Sticking with the surprised look and holding back a chuckle, they answer “The name’s Azra, I’m a nurse, and I take care of you. I mean, if that’s okay with you Miss… Williams?”
A nurse? I mean, sure this looks like a hospital room, but I don’t know, I’d have imagined it more—full? Neither my family, nor the hospital world are very rich I know, but still, a machine in the corner or TV on the wall would already make the place a little more alive.
I scratch my head as if that would make my discomfort vanish. “Oh yeah sure, sorry. You can call me Chloe, by the way.”
Dropping their hands back on the cart, they exclaim “Nice then! Glad to hear Sleeping Beauty’s finally woken up! Doctors were kinda worried, you know?”
“Well, me too I guess, heh.”
Gosh Chloe, you’re such a dork! Stop being so nervous and insecure, expelling cringe like you want to fill the room or something. Try and be confident for once, or fake it till you make it.
Embarrassed, I scan the abysmal emptiness around me, trying not to meet Azra’s gaze. “What kind of hospital is this actually? Not even a button to call for help if you need it.”
Amused by my obvious social struggle, they continue in the same lighthearted tone. “This place’s no five-star hotel for sure, but at least you’ve got big windows to admire the day-star and its rays. Well, when the blinds are open anyways, ‘cause right now it’s pretty dark.”
Their good mood is infectious and I feel my cheeks lighten a bit more with each uttered sentence. I find myself intrigued by this Azra person. Their voice—crisp and crackling—possesses a unique blend of depth and airiness, while their presence brings me an inexplicable sense of comfort. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still anxious and all, but way less than with most people, even though I just met them.
The first cart was full of medical stuff, but now that I’m awake I can eat some real food! Azra leaves for a few minutes before returning with a new cart, laden with what smells like heaven.
Mimicking a mannered waiter, they place a bed tray with two plates on it above my hips. “Madame, here’s your chicken pot pie and broccoli, with a chocolate chip cookie for dessert. Bon appetit!”
Each word in this sentence makes saliva flood my mouth a bit more. I’m starving like I didn’t eat in days, so I devour everything in a record time. It’s no gastronomy and it smells better than it tastes, but my comatose stomach is delighted nonetheless. With my feast over, Azra gives me some painkillers and we get to know each other for a few minutes, until they have to take off. Sated and increasingly numb from the meds, I soon fall asleep to a dreamless night.
###
When I wake up, the sun is shining through the blinds. There’s no clock around, but Azra comes with food after five minutes at most, so I guess it’s about noon. Glad to see this almost-familiar masked silhouette again, I smile and greet them with a cheerful “Hi!”
“Hey there!” they respond, their eyes crinkling at the corners. “How’s sleep?”
I think for two seconds as they put the bed tray in place. I don’t feel tired or anything, but I can’t say that sleep was great either.
“I dunno—truth is, I don’t feel like I’ve actually slept.”
“What’d you mean? No sweet dreams n’ shit?”
I chuckle, and have to admit I find their flippancy pretty cute.
“None of that I’m afraid. Meds’ side effects I guess.”
“Yeah, maybe. You talk in your sleep though, so it’s possible you just don’t remember.”
Surprised, I raise an eyebrow and chuckle. “I—what? You’ve been spying on me or something?”
“Haha, who knows!” they reply with a mischievous wink. “I came by to check on you. Nurse job and all, you know?”
“Yeah right, okay. What did I say then, Mx. all-seeing Nurse?”
“Um, I think you mumbled something like den—or tan?”
“Dan? Dan! Fuck…” I exhale, putting my right hand to my forehead in worry.
Witnessing my distress, they stop setting up the dinner and kneel beside me.
“What’s wrong?” they ask, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Who’s Dan? Was he in the car too?”
Unsettled by the sound of my brother’s name, I try to gather my thoughts and think about what I did before getting here. “The car? No. He’s my brother and I’d taken him to school. A-and then, then I was on my way back when—”
All of a sudden, everything comes back to me. The fight, the snow, Dan, school, the car crash. It all hits me like well-placed jabs in the liver. Breathless, I try to explain what’s on my mind to Azra, but am unable to form a single word. My lips begin to tremble and as they reach out for a hug, I end up bursting into tears.
Several minutes later, I eventually manage to calm down. With the hint of a sadness tinged smile, the throat sore from crying, and an almost regular breath, I whisper.
“Thank you, I really needed that.”
Caressing my shoulder with their thumb, Azra chuckles, before laying me back against the pillow.
“Don’t mention it. We’re all just passing through and good ol’ Heavenly Father decided I’d be here now.”
Our eyes meet and I can sense the kindness of their smile under the mask. I don’t know if it’s because I’m tired or what, but I can’t help giggling as I feel my cheeks getting warmer.
Gently, Azra brushes away a lingering tear from my face, their touch light and reassuring. “I gotta bounce,” they say, their voice carrying a soft urgency that nudges me back to reality. “But we can talk more about Dan later if you want.”
They get up from my bed and finish placing the meal on the bed tray. Before heading toward the door, Azra reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small remote control, which they hand to me.
“Here’s a little something in case you’re missing me. If the pain’s too high or the mood too low, press it any time and I’ll come to the rescue. Oh and eat up before it gets cold. Sleeping Beauty still gotta get some calories, alright?”
I smile as I take the little piece of plastic. “Thanks! For everything.”
I watch them leave the room and stay still for a minute, sorting out my thoughts. This hospital is oddly quiet and I haven’t seen my family yet, are visits prohibited here? It’s also possible they don’t give a shit about me, but judging from Azra’s eternal mask, I guess the pandemic rose up again or something like that.
With more questions than answers, I take pills for the day and clean my plate, my thoughts wandering to what Mx. Nurse’s face might look like. Their black, short, and wavy hair is artfully arranged in a tousled pixie cut—a style that leaves my frizzy hair envious. I do know they have gray eyes and porcelain skin, but the rest remains shrouded in mystery.
While putting everything back on the cart Azra left, I see the bouquet on my nightstand and something strange catches my eye. It looks like the flowers are less wilted than yesterday, which doesn’t make any sense since they’re not in water or anything. I guess I’m just tired and slightly foggy from the meds, so I don’t pay much attention to it and let my mind wander to parallel—less-shitty—lives.
###
Another dreamless night comes to an end. I lay in the middle of my fortress of solitude, wedged between a thin blanket and a foam mattress. Each passing second feels like an hour, as if my room floated right next to a black hole’s event horizon.
Alone and wary of what too much introspection might reveal, I choose to distract myself by examining the bizarre bouquet. I reach for it—forgetting my legs don’t work—and lose balance. I clutch the mattress cover to prevent a fall, but it follows me and I end up on the floor in a cushioned crash.
My back against the mild cold floor, I lay there for a dozen seconds, dazed and a bit disoriented. I’m not used to tumbling—I don’t think I’ve ever fallen down stairs or from a bed before—but I found the sensation surprisingly pleasant. I’m no risk-taker, and the unknown scares the shit out of me, but yeah—that was kinda fun, soothing even.
I’ll have to look into this further when I get home, but for now I need to get back on my bed and can’t do it alone. I take Azra’s remote control out of my gown pocket and click the red button in its center. The thing is super-basic and nothing indicates when a signal is sent, so I try to climb back up in the meantime.
Two minutes later, Azra arrives to find me with my arms on the bare mattress, trying in vain to lift myself off the floor. Struck by the ridiculousness of the scene, they suppress a laugh and roll their eyes to the sky.
“I mean okay, those ain’t the most comfortable beds ever, but don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little here, Sleeping Beauty?”
“H-hey, it’s not my fault! Interior designers and florists are conspiring against me, I swear!” I respond in a chuckle.
They snort with laughter, before continuing in the same joking tone as they approach to help. “Thaaat’s right, good luck proving it in court though, Miss Williams! I bet their syndicates have good lawyers, so you better come up with a convincing story.”
With that, Azra lifts me up and lays me back on my bed with surprising ease. Then, they tenderly cover my lifeless legs with the blanket, before sitting next to me.
“My savior,” I say with a tender face, placing both palms over my heart. “Wouldst thou grant me the honor of removing thy mask? That I might gaze upon thy visage, so noble and fair.”
“‘Twould not beseem my office,” they chuckle. “Yet for thee, O Slumbering Beauty, an exception shall be made.”
Azra lifts their hands to their ears, gently pulling the rubber bands away. The motion unveils a slender, androgynous face, dotted with discrete freckles that add character to their cheeks.
Their allure is both captivating and unsettling, a beauty that transcends mere appearance. It’s in the unfathomable depth of their gray eyes, a stormy sea that seems to hold secrets of the universe, and in the flawless porcelain of their skin, glowing with an almost ethereal light. There’s something otherworldly about them, a presence that feels both comforting and overwhelming, making my heart race with a mix of admiration and an inexplicable sense of foreboding.
Azra smiles, speaking to me about something, but the meaning of their words dissipate before reaching my brain. Time appears to flow in slow motion, and the world reduces to nothing more but the dance of their lips for me. I hear their voice, lulling me, yet their words seem distant and muffled. A rush of heat races across my skin and my mouth freezes half open, unable to form a single word.
Noticing my numbness, Azra pauses and waves their hand in front of my eyes. “Hey there, you alive?”
“Oh yeah I, I’m here,” I stutter, looking away in embarrassment. “Sorry, um, what were you saying?”
“Right—well in short, my father’s a dick,” they resume, lowering their head and nervously clutching a piece of blanket with their right hand again and again. “He basically forced me to work for him, you know? Becoming a nurse and all—I mean alright, to be fair I enjoy helping people, I really do. But yeah—all he talks about is taking care of your neighbor and shit, but what about me? What about free will, man?”
“That sucks,” I sigh, placing my hand on their shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Like, a lot of people are nurses already, so one less wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?”
“The end of his world, maybe,” Azra completes, covering my hand with theirs.
We stay like this for a moment, then they turn to face me—head slightly bent forward—and I tilt mine to meet their gaze.
“But enough about me!” they say, with a slight newfound smile. “What’s on your heart now, Princess?”
“Me?” I ask, half blushing. “Not much to talk about I’m afraid…”
“Aw, come on!” they exclaim with a childlike tone. “Can’t let me be the only one here oversharing. I wanna know everything!” they add, lightly tapping the bed with both palms in a cute playful way.
“Okay fiiine! You win dear Prince, but being charming can only get you so far, alright?” I giggle, my left hand on the hip while moving my right index finger back and forth like I’m warning a child.
“Yeah-yeah, whatever.” they retort while stretching out on the bed in my direction, before resting their head on the backs of their hands. “Now do tell, before I fall into a boredom coma!”
“So, once upon a time, two people fell in love in high school. Soon after, pregnancy came along. The lovebirds were barely adults and neither was ready to welcome a child, but society forbade any choice in the matter, so a daughter was born nine months later. Her parents did their best to manage everything at once, but this ordeal did not leave their love unscathed. Twelve years later, the girl got a brother, and tensions rose a notch. Rumor had it that the newborn was the son of a different father, so the already spicy situation turned sour. Cries replaced I love you’s and once again, a teenager had to grow up faster to raise a baby.”
“Fuckin’ irony.” Azra let out in a sigh.
Realizing what I just said out loud, thoughts about Dan being left alone flood my mind and I quickly become overwhelmed by emotions.
“I-I’m sorry.” I stutter. “I didn’t mean to get so gloomy, it’s just, my brother he—”
“Don’t be.” they interrupt as I wipe away a budding tear. ”You ain’t got nothing to apologize for. Life sucks, that’s all. I get that. You care a lot about your brother, don’t you? I mean, you’re recovering from a car crash, your legs ain’t working, and yet you think about him first.”
“Sure do, I’m basically his mother at this point!”
I lay back against my pillow and think for two seconds, before continuing.
“And not just him actually. As far as I can remember, I’ve always been preoccupied by other people’s fate. Not just in a normal, light, and altruistic kind of way. Rather like a subconscious urge to solve everyone else’s issues.”
“I see…” they mumble, tilting their head to the side a little. “And why is that, you think? Did people ever ask you to take care of their shit? Would that even be fair?” they add in a kind but firm voice.
“I dunno—I mean, no. It wouldn’t.”
“So why ask that of yourself? Like fine, perhaps they need help, but then what about the others? What about all the people in the world you just can’t reach? They’re gonna die without you?”
Azra takes my right hand in theirs and lower their voice to a soothing whisper.
“To be fair, some will die, yes. But that doesn’t make you responsible anyways. You know too damn well how taking care of a single human being can be tough already, so don’t you dare overlook yourself, alright? Save you first and please, forgive yourself for not being almighty.”
###
Their words pierced the darkness cloaking my heart, like a lightning strike on a stormy night. My whole life I’d been trying to fix others, but I was merely putting myself in the middle of a battlefield, hoping to take the blows for them. Whether I believed I was stronger, that I didn’t matter, or that I wasn’t worthy of love if I didn’t sacrifice myself—I now realized one more broken person wouldn’t help anyone.
I remained speechless for a few moments, lost in Azra’s gaze with my emotions on edge. In the soft glow that filled the room, I felt an invisible thread pulling me closer to Azra, our silent exchanges weaving a tapestry of anticipation. Almost without us realizing it, the gap between us was gradually diminishing. Azra’s hand brushed against mine, a tentative gesture that I answered by interlacing our fingers together. Our breaths intertwined until there was nothing left but the warmth of our proximity. And then, as naturally as the night gives way to dawn, I leaned in, and kissed Azra with passion. When our lips met, I felt a sensation that transcended words. It was like time itself had lost its rhythm for an instant. I found myself suddenly enveloped in a feeling so profound, I felt I’d just stepped into a different world—a world of harmony and serenity.
As if they knew all along our kiss was inevitable, they chuckled and eased back gently. They turned their gaze to the bouquet on the bedside table and their face lit up with satisfaction. I looked in turn and discovered the flowers were no longer faded, but now shone with a new, soothing glare. Coming from the windows and everywhere at once, the room was soon flooded with a warm and powerful sunlight—as my heart with peace.