Page 13 of Eternal

AZRA

“Of Course Nobody Understands You” by Are you really fine?

Past

M y hands are so cold.

I don’t even know if I still have fingers. They’re all red and sore, but I have to keep scrubbing. I don’t want to feel the cold anymore, but it doesn’t matter what I want. The window’s still dirty, I need to get it clean, that’s what I’ve been told to do if I wanted to eat tonight.

Clean and you’ll eat.

Because I cried too much yesterday, I didn’t know saying sorry would get me in trouble. But Christian hates it, and Brittany hates it too.

It hurts so much. The ice water makes my hands burn.

I don’t stop scrubbing, even though I think I might pass out from the cold, I can feel the ice all the way down to my bones.

Remember Azra you’re not allowed to stop.

The water is really too cold, but I keep scrubbing, faster, faster because I don’t want to make her angry.

She’s behind me, watching, I can feel her eyes on my back, the coldness in her gaze is worse than the water. “You’re not done yet?” she screams.

I don’t dare turn around. “I can’t… I can’t feel my hands,” I whisper, but she doesn’t care.

Without warning, she picks up the bucket of ice water and pours it over my head. It splashes across my shoulders and down my back.

I can’t breathe… It's burning. It’s really burning.

I gasp, but the cold knocks the air right out of me. I fall to the floor, shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering like they’ll break if I keep opening my mouth to breathe.

I can’t stop shaking.

“You’re useless ,” she says, her voice cold and angry. “I told you to clean that window, and you can’t even do that. Why do I even try with you?”

Useless.

I don’t answer, I can’t open my mouth, I don't even have the strength to lift my head, nor to reply.

And then she gets out, throwing a drape on me like it will make it less painful.

It’s so thin that I feel the fabric melting on my skin with the water.

I lie there on the cold floor, my body trembling, and look out the window, through the frosted glass, and I see the small and dirty garden.

It’s empty, and sad.

I wish the irises were here. I know they’d be beautiful by this time of year.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and I can almost see them. Purple petals opening up, like they always used to. I wish I could feel her hand in mine again, warm and safe, her smile before she stopped smiling.

But the reality is that it’s only me on the cold floor, shivering and alone.

I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I could have something warm. Something soft. But all I have is the cold, and the silence.

The irises won’t grow here.

They’ll never grow here.