Ash Fall

Ash was falling from the sky. No...was it ash? It looked like ash. It was too familiar to not be, but the dissonance resonated too hard in Ella's head. She watched as the white, fuzzy flakes wafted down from the sky and carpeted the street. The whole world was disappearing from view. The perfectly manicured lawn, still iridescently green in mid-winter. The black asphalt road, smooth and unmarred by cracks and potholes. The orange Subaru Outback with tiny white stick figures representing a family, faceless and timeless.

Ella pressed her face up against the cold windowpane, her breath fogging up the glass. No, not ash. Snow. Crisp and clean. A new beginning.

"Ella!"

Ella crunched herself into a ball, shielding the back of her neck with her arms and tucking her face into her knees.

"Oh, no, oh I'm sorry Ella - please don't - no, it's fine, I didn't mean to shout," Sarah hastened across the living room to Ella's side, crouching alongside her and throwing her arm around the shivering Ella. "How stupid of me - Ella? Ella, are you alright?"

Ella swam through her memories back into the present and looked up into Sarah's concerned brown eyes. "Yes ma'am. Just a fright, that's all.

Sarah squeezed Ella's shoulders and pulled her up to standing. "I only wanted to let you know that it's the first snowfall of the season, but obviously you've seen it. I can see the nose mark on the windowpane - no, don't worry! It's nothing, it's nothing." Sarah chattered on rapid-fire, so eager to make Ella feel at ease yet making her feel incredibly anxious in her quest to do so. "And please don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel so old."

Ella took a deep breath, more to hint to Sarah that she should take one as well than satisfying any need of her own. Sarah took the cue and smiled warmly.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Sarah asked. Ella shook her head. Her taste buds had been so overloaded with sugar recently - it seems that during this time of year, all people around here ate was sugar.

"Alright then, just let me know if you need anything," Sarah continued, rising back up alongside Ella. "I think I may have some hot chocolate myself - if you change your mind, I'm happy to make more."

Sarah padded across the hardwood floor, slipping slightly as she turned into the hallway, her tiny corrective movements indicating this was a regular occurrence. Ella wondered why she didn't put rugs down - back home, Ella's family home was littered with rugs upon rugs, each telling a story, both within the weave and from the stains upon them

Ella turned to look back out the window, taking in the wintry evening. Snow was not something she was familiar with. In fact, she'd only ever seen it on television, or in pictures in books. No one had ever thought to mention that it could look eerily similar to the soft ash fall after a massive explosion. After worlds were ripped apart and families destroyed forever. Absentmindedly, Ella rubbed at the scar on her arm, still raw and angry. If only she could feel that angry - instead, she just felt tired and emptied out. There was a before, and an after, and nothing to tie the two together. It was almost easier that way.

Sarah had been kind to take her in. Something about a refugee program for those displaced by the conflict. Ella hadn't paid too much attention. Just had been glad to get out of the refugee camp where people's grief echoed off each other's and built into something almost tangible. Ella supposed Sarah was getting some kind of stipend for taking her in, though from what Ella could tell in the two days she'd been there, Sarah wasn't doing it for the money. There was something off about Sarah - something inside her that spoke to the grief deep inside Ella. Ella wondered if Sarah knew it, though something about the way that Sarah prattled on told her that she was probably all too aware of the abyss she toed.

Ella clutched her fleece robe tighter around her shoulders. The abyss was there, waiting for her too. After a beat, she clicked off the couch side lamp and headed towards her bedroom at the end of the hall, noting that the kitchen remained dark and empty, no hot chocolate bubbling merrily on the stove.

---

"Oh Ella, isn't it beautiful?" Sarah exclaimed as she waltzed into the kitchen, woolly socks slipping on the tiles. She caught herself on the counter, leaned over and gazed out the window between the eyelet curtains. "Three inches! Everything looks so clean and new."

Ella nodded, nursing her cup of instant coffee that was her typical breakfast. What she really wanted was a smoke, but she figured now was as good a time to quit as any. In any case, she had no money to buy more cigarettes, and Sarah was being kind enough already without funding her destructive habit as well.

"You sure you don't want more, love?" Sarah asked, eyeing the cup of rapidly-cooling coffee. "I have some bread for toast, and some Cheerios somewhere. Oh shit, I think the milk has gone bad..." Sarah whipped open the fridge and grabbed the milk carton, sticking her nose deep into the opening before Ella could get a word out.

"Please no, ma- I mean, Sarah. Please don't, I never eat breakfast. Just not hungry in the morning," Ella assured her, putting her tepid coffee on the table. "I thought I'd mentioned yesterday?"

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her mouth to the side, looking ashamed. "Oh gosh, yes Ella, you did, I just... I just can't seem to remember things these days."

The bright morning light reflected off the snow outside, and the kitchen seemed unusually bright. White-washed walls and white ceramic tiles added to the effect, and Sarah in her bright red fleece robe stood out like blood on a sheet. Ella noticed a rash under her eyes for the first time, usually hidden under daily make-up or dark circles Ella assumed came from lack of sleep. The skin looked blotchy and irritated. Sarah not only had been crying, but clearly crying a lot for a prolonged amount of time.

Sarah noticed Ella's scrutiny and smiled brightly. "Well, how about a walk in the snow? It's hard to be the ones to make the first marks on such a clean slate, but better us than someone else!"

Ella shook her head, slightly exasperated. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I just want to sit for a bit this morning, maybe take a look at the papers I need to start getting together for work. It's been a rough few weeks..."

"Oh my god, yes of course. No worries at all," Sarah said. "I may go out if you don't mind. Get some sun and all that."

"Sounds nice," Ella said. She knew Sarah wouldn't.

---

Ella sat at the desk in her room. Well, the guest room, but she supposed that it was "her" room from now on. Until she got back "on her feet", as Sarah put it. She stared at the pile of paperwork in front of her. It may as well have been a mountain for all that she understood. At least she spoke English, but bureaucracy was a language of its own. Procrastinating, Ella began snooping through the drawers of the old wooden desk. The top drawer was a smattering of pens, pencils, and assorted office supplies. Useful to know. The next two down the side were empty, most likely intended for Ella to fill up over time. The bottom one was slightly jammed - Ella pulled harder and was punished with a prolonged squeal as the warped wood protested. She winced at the noise, but figured that if there was anything secret, Sarah would have taken it out of the room.

The drawer was empty except for one small picture frame, placed into the drawer upside down. Ella picked it up and turned it over. The photo was of Sarah and a man, clearly of boyfriend status given the way they were holding each other for the picture. The man had turned his head to kiss her cheek, and Sarah was laughing out loud, her eyes sparkling. Odd that Sarah would have left something like this in the desk.

Ella pulled out her phone and opened Facebook, fully accepting that she was procrastinating at this point. Besides, if she was to live with this person, shouldn't she know something about her? She could ask but... social interaction was not Ella's strong suit, especially these days. Cultural barriers didn't help, either.

Sarah hadn't posted anything on Facebook for a long time, but several months back, it looks like she was tagged often with this guy Ethan. The same man in the photo. They were the picture of love - although Sarah smiled all the time around Ella, the Sarah that Ella saw in the photographs was different. She was lighter, and there was no shadow in her eyes.

What had happened? Ella didn't think that Ethan had died. His picture wouldn't be overturned in a drawer if that was the case. Ella's whole family was gone, and she would kill someone for a picture of her mother. Her brother. She swallowed and forced her brain to reroute, refusing to go down that thought path. Her refusal to acknowledge her emotions had been a stellar defense mechanism so far, and she wasn't about to do any different. Not yet, anyways.

Ella clicked on Ethan's name, not expecting to see much, and was surprised to find his profile was pretty public. He posted often, and all of his recent posts were of him with another woman. About how happy he was. How she lit up his world. Ella felt sick. Heartbreak, then. Sarah was a victim of heartbreak.

Ella had never experienced heartbreak and didn't know much about it. She knew what she saw in movies, though those stories typically turned out alright for the characters, or at the very least, the lights came on at the end of the movie and the audience could leave those sad thoughts behind them.

Yikes. Well, at least Sarah didn't seem to want to talk about it. And at least if explained Sarah's flightiness, and her forced cheeriness. Ella wondered if Sarah signed up for the refugee placement program for the company, not the money. Ella could understand fighting loneliness. She was doing it every minute. Maybe they could do it together.

---

Ella stayed in her room most of the day, managing to avoid times when Sarah was out and about in the house whenever she left to get a snack or use the bathroom. Sarah seemed to be spending the Saturday on the couch watching cooking shows, and when Ella peeked in on her in late afternoon, was still in her red robe and wool socks. She was sleeping, her breath soft as the woman on television explained how toasting the cardamom pods before grinding them would impart more flavor. Several crumpled tissues rested in her hand, and Ella saw dried tear tracks on her rosy cheeks.

Dinner was an awkward affair. Sarah was always too afraid to ask Ella too many questions about her past for fear of triggering difficult memories, and now Ella was afraid to do the same. They sat at the kitchen table, the sounds of their chewing magnified in the silence. Ella swallowed a bite of pasta and was frantically thinking about what to say when Sarah suddenly broke the silence with a sigh.

"Gosh, we must be tired! Something about the winter air? Sorry about the pasta... Usually I like to make sauce from scratch but I'm just not... I dunno, I'm not cooking much these days," Sarah shrugged. "Winter malaise, maybe? I can try to cook something nice next weekend. Comfort food. Probably too busy this week, though, so it'll be takeout and jarred sauces, I'm afraid."

"Oh, it's ok, this is delicious," Ella said, happy for something to say. "And I can cook sometimes, too, of course."

"Oh my gosh!" Sarah's vehemence caused Ella to jump slightly. "I didn't mean to imply that you needed to - no, I just meant that I'm slightly embarrassed. I love to cook, I just... Anyways, sure, I'd love to taste your cooking but let's get you back on your feet first!"

Ella smiled gratefully. More silence.

"I actually tend to eat in from of the TV..." Sarah sounded sheepish. "So if that doesn't bother you, and we can find something we're both interested in, maybe we can do that starting tomorrow?"

Ella nodded. "Listen, Sarah..."

Sarah smiled brightly at Ella, waiting for her to continue.

"I think I saw on Facebook that you were in a relationship up until recently, and I'm guessing it ended badly, and... I'm sorry, that must be painful."

Sarah's smile didn't move, but the light in her eyes shifted. "Oh, well, it happens. And I mean, it's nothing compared to what you've been through. I'll manage just fine. I mean, you have had it so much worse. Let's not talk about it, anyways. What's done is done."

Ella nodded her ascent and looked down at the few noodles she had left on her plate. Looking across the table, she noticed that Sarah had only eaten a few bites.

She heard the grief begin to echo in the silence.

---

When Ella woke up the next morning, the house felt eerily still. She remembered the stillness before the bombs dropped. This was a different stillness. It was like the stillness after - after the deafening shockwaves, but right before the heart-wrenching screams of souls torn apart.

Mechanically, Ella slipped on her robe and walked out into the hall. The kitchen was empty, but being Sunday, perhaps Sarah was just having a lie-in. The air in the house spoke a different story to Ella. She approached Sarah's door and knocked softly.

"Sarah?"

Silence. Ella focused on her own breath. In, out. In, out. She jumped slightly when the furnace kicked on, and she used that movement inertia to open the door.

The silence was louder in Sarah's bedroom. Her body lay still on the bed, her red robe vibrant against the white sheets. An empty pill bottle and a trace of vomit at Sarah's lips. Her hands clasped at her chest as if trying to wrench her heart out in her last moments. Ella stared softly at her for a while. She wasn't used to seeing a body without a soul still so whole. She reached out and traced her finger along one of the tear tracks still visible along Sarah's cheek. No, not whole. This one was broken on the inside. 

Ella let her new situation sink into her bones as she stood there. She felt disconnected from it, as she had from everything since that first bomb had dropped. She tried to think about what she was supposed to do - call the authorities? What was the protocol in this country for this situation? Would they think that Ella was guilty of something? A ghost of a thought faded in then - could she have stopped this? But the thought went as quickly as it came. There was no room for regret in Ella, no room for guilt. This was life, and this was an ending. It happened.

She covered Sarah with a fleece throw she found on the floor, her heart worried about Sarah catching cold even when her brain told her that was absurd. She walked back to her bedroom, thinking perhaps there would be a number she could call in the papers she had been given when she left the refugee center. They had told her so many things, given her so many papers, there had to be something.

Passing the kitchen from this direction, she could see the kitchen table. There was a large pile of papers on it. Ella changed course, and the cold kitchen tile sent shockwaves up her bare feet. She reached out and fanned out the pile of papers across the table.

It was all there - everything that had made Sarah, Sarah. Birth certificate, passport, old and current IDs, banking information, account passwords. As Ella flipped through it all, she paused on a letter - a copy of Sarah's resignation from her most recent job. Everything was meticulously prepared for a new beginning. A note fluttered out of the pile and Ella picked it up with shaking hands.

I am sorry for what happened to you, and that you have to deal with what I leave behind. I feel really bad about putting you in this position, but hopefully this can set you up on a new life. And I have gone to find a new one for me too, because my current life left me a while ago now. Love, Sarah.

The echoes of grief faded softly into the silence.