Chill of the Unseen

Note: There is a theme of death in this story.

It’s the coldest day of the year. No one but her can feel the chill. The way it lodges itself deep inside her soul. The ominous feeling of dread. It’s the coldest day of the year, but it’s not actually cold outside. It’s her, not them. It’s the coldest day of the year—someone save her. 

Alora knew she was different. It’s not something she could explain but she knew. It’s the way shadows and lights played tricks on her that aren’t quite tricks making it look like creatures lurked there. Or how some days she would stare off into space, almost as if she was in a trance. People said it wasn’t real. It was all in her mind. But they didn’t live there. They didn’t see what she saw. Her parents didn’t understand it; they told her to grow up and stop the daydreams. Her doctor said she was perfectly healthy and was just an imaginative child. Her peers said she was peculiar. Her friends told her she was unique. But Alora knew this wasn’t normal. When she was “daydreaming” she saw things no living person should. 

Alora saw people’s lives—their hopes and dreams but also their fears and secrets. Now, this on it’s own wouldn’t have been so horrible, except for one fact: the people whose lives that she saw. They were not of this world. Not anymore. Call them what you’d like. Ghost, spirit, creature, eidolon, shade. It doesn’t matter; it won’t change anything. Alora could see their lives. Almost as if the creatures needed someone to remember them, like they were afraid of being forgotten. Usually it wasn’t too awful. She’s seen a spirit who wanted to be a broadway singer but whose worst fear was being booed off stage. She’s seen a ghost who hoped to become rich but who’s deepest secret was the ghost had harmed those it once loved. She’s seen an eidolon who had hoped to marry a prince but was terrified of talking to new people. Even the worst ones weren’t as bad as what she saw that final time. 

Alora knew the moment she stared off, unseeing that it was different, it was cold. Heartless. A monster. She had always known of those who, even in life weren’t quite human. They did things that horrified others without a care in the world. After all in a monsters eyes the world belongs to them. When Alora saw the monster she didn’t see it’s worst fears or darkest secrets. Almost like it didn’t have any. No. What Alora saw was new. 

She saw the monster’s dream— it’s goal. Alora felt drawn to the monster. She remembered a time when she was younger, how she spent all day in the snow and when she had gone inside after spending hours playing she had been drawn to the fire. Only this time, the monster was the fire she was drawn to. As her consciousness approached the monster her body stayed where it was, laying down curled up on her bed. She saw how the monster longed to be human once more. How it could taste the living world but couldn’t get there. How that is it’s biggest dream. 

She didn’t understand—until she got too close—how the monster’s dream could actually be fulfilled. How she was the missing key, the thing the monster needed. Alora realized that the monster couldn’t just choose any random human it saw to make its dream come true. If it was that easy it would have selected the first warm body it saw. No, what the monster needed was someone that could see it. It seemed that old saying; seeing is believing really was true. Seeing gave it power. 

Like a moth to a flame, she drew closer, unable to resist. Until she was but a few feet from it. She no longer felt drawn. She felt nothing. Nothing but the cold, sinking into her very self. Alora had never felt anything like this before. It’s the kind of cold that won’t go away no matter how many blankets you pile on top of you. No matter how many warm drinks you have. No matter how many fires you sit by. It was unshakable.

Alora knew it then. She knew that this was it—the end of her short weird life. She briefly wondered what her parents may think when they find her lying on her bed. What her doctor might say, if asked for an explanation. What her peers would whisper about her— like she was a secret. What her friends would do without her. Would they all move on? Alora thought that was her biggest fear. Until now she’d never had one. Sure she had little fears, like spiders and those beady eyed baby dolls but this was a first. A deep, raw fear. It was almost funny how only after she’s dying, she becomes afraid of what she’ll miss. Would she become like the ghosts who didn’t want to be forgotten?

She knew that the monster had used her. Trading its horrible cold for her warmth. She could feel her body getting colder and the monster’s getting warmer, more solid. Trading her life for its own. After all why should a monster care about a strange girl? Why should it care that she had dreams and hopes, fears and secrets? It didn’t care that she wanted to go on to help people. Alora had wanted to become a therapist. She wanted to be able to listen to others and make sure they knew it was okay to be different. Be someone others could look up to. Someone she could look up to. Alora’s dream froze along with her. 

It was the coldest day of the year. No one but her felt the chill. The way it would forever be lodged deep in her soul. The ominous feeling of dread would stay forever. It was the coldest day of the year, but it’s not actually cold outside. It was her, not them. It’s the coldest day of the year—no one could save her.