A blue girl sat alone in a cold dark room. In the centre of the floor she crouched, hugging her body, shivering from the frost that seemed to devour every surface of the room with each passing minute.
Fumbling in her pocket she produced a single matchstick. She sighed with relief, gazing at the promise of heat to come. Striking it across her wrist a flame sparked to life, leaving a thick white scratch on her icy skin. Being made entirely of ice she mustn’t let herself get too close to the flame. Each time she warms herself by it, a piece of her melts and disappears, dripping to the floor, adding to the encroaching freeze.
She doesn’t remember how long the temperature has been this low. The Public Service announcements through her wall-screen seemed to fizzle out a few weeks ago, or maybe it was months ago?
It doesn’t really matter as long as she has the matchsticks; to keep her sane, and to keep her from freezing over.
She held the flame to her face, close to her eye and watched the happy flickering flame dance in every direction. She enjoyed the feeling of warmth against her skin, and how this little light seemed to brighten the whole room, glistening from every frosted surface. Some surfaces were encased in hard and reflective ice; the pipes that used to gloriously heat the entire apartment complex are all trapped in ice now. While other surfaces like her little desk, don a white coating, as if white crumbs had just been sprinkled upon it that day. The frost here grows like mould, it spreads around corners and fills up holes. It reaches deep into your throat and clamps onto your lungs, and with each breath it pinches harder.
Holding the flame close to her cheek she closes her eyes and feels a familiar balm, calming the painful frost on her skin. She focused on the warmth, willing it to spread and numb her entire body. Opening her eyes a crack she saw herself in the reflection of the ice wall, her face, the side illuminated by flame, is drooping. The flame melted the side of her mouth and her eye moved like a runny egg yolk, making its way down her cheek. As the matchstick neared the end of its life the flame shrank, sizzling into the fingertips made of ice.
She dropped her hands onto her cross-legged lap, and the wooden nub bounced to the floor. Staying completely still she savoured the numb feeling, allowing it to take residence in every pore, easing her veins and staving off the freeze, keeping reality at bay, and the harsh world that has treated her so unfairly since birth.
She already felt a chill return to her skin, so she reached into her pocket for another matchstick.
Tsing! Tsing!
Jerking her head back she was alerted to the familiar noise coming from her wall-screen, notifying her of a user that has logged online. Picking herself up and settling herself into a chair, she surveys the contents of her wall-screen. You wouldn’t notice the wall-screen at first, but for the thin black frame about a meter in width, containing no picture, melted into the main wall of the room.
Inside the wide black frame shined a small orange light icon, in the shape of a life-sized handprint. The blue girl pressed her cold hand onto the glowing handprint. As soon as contact was made a surge of energy rushed up her arm and travelled around what felt like her organs. It was warm, and seemed to ease some of the pressure from her lungs, head and heart.
Looking back at the screen she saw the handprint was fading and pressed her own hand beside it, leaving a frozen handprint behind instead. A smaller yellow dot moved in loops, leaving a line trail behind it. The trail formed into letters, which formed into a word. The meaning of the word made the blue girl suck in a gasp of cold air, which caused her to choke on cold air and splutter her disbelief away from the screen. Turning back she saw the word remained “Meet?”
Nearly an hour later the blue girl paced the room. She blew into her cold hands for warmth as she glanced at the wall-screen, intermittently. She stopped every so often to look at her reflection in one of the frozen walls, examining the damage on her body. The sunken ribs offensively stuck out from her abdomen, her breasts had been melted down due to her frequent attempts to warm up her heaving chest, her face was lop-sided from her most recent melting. The repeated melting had caused more damage than she thought.
She glanced back at the glowing message on the wall-screen, which now was displaying two more marks. Underneath the word “Meet?” was a tick and cross, flashing in unison. She sat back down, and hovering for a moment her finger tapped the mark in the shape of a tick and the entire message shrank out of view.
Blinking, she waited for something to happen.
The air around her was still. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed before she noticed a patch appear on the wall beside the screen. It darkened as she looked at it and to her horror she realised that a person’s hand was making its way through the wall, melting the surface as it went deeper, rapidly closing the distance between herself and them. Panic jolted from inside of her and she leapt to her feet. The desperate desire to stop them coming through rushed over her body. The thought of this warm friend seeing her as she truly was made her sick. The lop-sidedness of her face, the skeletal appearance across her ribs, the deformation of her breasts over the months, maybe years of burning and melting her body. The thought of showing this to someone was too much for her to bear.
Another jolt of panic shot through her body like a bullet and her arm shot forward, sending an uncomfortable surge of power down her arm, out the palm of her hand, sending a short stream of blue ice at the offending spot. The dark patch on the wall was now completely covered with a fresh coating of solid ice. Surprised, the girl looked at her hand. Still feeling the unfamiliar tingle surging up and down her arm she looked back at the wall and saw another patch dampening the wall, showing a yellow hand steadily approaching her side of the wall. She shot another stream of ice at it and froze it over. Another patch appeared on the wall above and she blocked that one too. More attempts were made by the yellow person on the other side of the wall and she blocked every one, again and again. Pretty soon every wall was being infiltrated and the blue girl was shooting ice in all directions. She whirled around in a tornado of panic and blizzard until all she could see was the blue streams flying from her hands. Not knowing if the orange person was still coming she squeezed out as much freeze as she could, and bared all of her fear and hurt that had built up over the years and pushed it all outwards, out and out further where nothing could get to her.
Once the blizzard finally cleared and the snow settled, she realised she was crouching on the ground covering head with her arms. Looking around her, all she could see was plain blue ice. She seemed to have encased in a frozen ball, now only allowing 2 square feet of room. Good, she thought. This is my space, no one else’s.
She took in a deep solitary breath and sat back into the cross-legged position in her private cave. Fumbling for a matchstick she found it and gleefully held it to her wrist, at the beginning of a scar from thousands of strikes. Looking up she saw her reflection, but this time it was magnified. The concave shape of the surrounding ball showed the spine protruding from her back, the ribs protruded even from behind her, and her skull peeked through her matted blue hair. A panic of a different kind hit her and the matchstick dropped. She stood up, holding her head and grabbed at her bones, she saw up close the devastation she had caused herself over the years. Her face had melted, revealing bared teeth and an angry looking eyeball, glaring back at her through the giant reflection.
She cried, cried and cried but no tears fell. Tears can’t run under this low temperature. She dropped to her knees and looked up pleadingly at the reflection. She closed her eyes and longed for the touch of her warm friend. The nights they shared through the wall-screen gave her so much solace, so much more relief and joy than she had ever realised before. Why did she freeze them out? Why would she hurt them like that?
She looked down, shaking her head in disbelief. Then an idea flew to her. If her orange friend can melt through ice then they can melt through this spherical prison.
She examines the curved wall, looking for a crack, a weakness in the structure. It seemed very solid, and the white of the ice itself was nearly opaque. Looking beyond her reflection she saw it, a glimmer of orange, about 2 meters away from the centre of the ice ball. It wasn’t moving, which suggested that whoever planted it there is currently embedded into the ice that she manically created.
Filling with worry she looks about her again, to find anything that could aid her escape. A wooden table seemed to have gotten caught up in the storm and was frozen into the ice. Its corned protruded through the ice wall, exposing a hefty table leg. Breaking it off the blue girl bashed the table leg against the crystal wall, hoping the impact would create a crack somewhere on a weak area. The ice in her arms splintered as she bashed into the wall with all her strength. It didn’t work.
Dropping the table leg in exhaustion she slumped to the floor again.
Then, on the floor in front of her, she saw the unlit matchstick. Incredulous that she hadn’t thought of trying it already, she picked it up and stood before the wall again. She winced as she struck the match against her wrist, almost grinning that it hadn’t occurred to her to use the wall instead. She held it against the ice and immediately it started melting. She grabbed another matchstick from her pocket and the melting increased, in no time she would be out of the frozen ball. Getting gradually closer, she saw her warm friend’s form more clearly. Their form seemed to be female, and they were looking directly into the hard crystalised ball. One of their hands was placed onto its surface and it had melted through by a few inches before it seemed to stop. As the blue girl got closer she noticed something odd about the orange girl’s eyes looking at her. They hadn’t yet blinked.
Once out of the ice entirely she finally saw what was wrong. The orange girl stood in stasis, and from head to toe she was completely frozen. She stood at the centre of the room, her hand extended toward the ball of ice (now turned to slush), and looked like a statue. The heat from her warm body permeated the cold air, and the orange glow seemed to live deep inside her bones, generating her very core. But this glow seemed to dwindle now, and recede further from the surface of her skin. The warmth was shrinking, and the orange girl was dying.
Grabbing the last of her matchsticks, the blue girl fell to her feet, arranging them for maximum covering. She struck them to light and created a miniature bonfire in the hope of reviving her precious friend. Running to every corner of the room she found more matches; one or two in a corner of the floor, more in draws and several strewn over shelving. When she was sure she had collected every last one she threw them onto the fire. Handful after handful it grew each time she fed it. She could feel that the flames were warming her friend, and at the same time they were melting her own hands. She had to continue, it didn’t matter what to her now. Heat would keep her friend alive, it could bring them together and she would never have to be alone ever again.
Reaching the last of her matchsticks she paused to diagnose the progress. The light in her body was still fading. Fear and despair ripped through the blue girl’s body, and seeing the light dim into almost nothing was too much. She stood up and a horrible scream tore from her lungs and leaked through her throat. Her head fell back as she groaned up at nothing. She hunched over the orange girl, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, tears now running, the heat of the flames allowing them to drip. As the fire died down, the light in her friend grew dim, and the room darkened with the fading light.
The blue girl convulsed, sobbing in the orange girl’s chest, now almost blue with ice. When her heaves of grief began to subside, the blue girl looked up at her friend’s face. Although they had never met, there was something eerily familiar about the look in her eyes, the shape of her face, even her hair was in a style that she recognised. And then it came to her. She was almost looking at herself. Not a reflection, but a pure fully-formed version of herself, from a period of time before the melting and her freezing isolation began.
Looking at her own body outside of herself was enlightening, and looking back at her blue self she saw that the body was more melted than ever before. Sitting in a large puddle one of her legs had almost completely gone. Her arm had melted away up to the shoulder, and the rest of her body looked as if it had been pulled through a mangler, twisted and wrung out of all of its juice. The blue girl sank back down to the floor and allowed the last of the embers to consume what was left of her fire ravaged body.
Tsing! Tsing!
She blinked.
Tsing! Tsing!
Lifting her head she looked up at the wall-screen. An orange glow emanated from it. It flashed as if a message had been sent. Pulling herself up the blue girl dragged herself across the floor, careful not to disturb her standing friend’s body. She heaved herself onto the chair and suddenly noticed her reflection on the screen. A monster looked back at her. The flashing message on screen briefly and periodically illuminated her appearance. The eyeballs were fully exposed, projecting an unflinching glare at her through the screen. The lips around the teeth had fully peeled back, revealing a threatening and menacing looking grin, surrounded by melted, mutilated skin. She tried to look past the reflection to the message flashing on the screen. It was difficult and she realised that deep inside of herself she always knew this would happen. She used her addiction to ignore the problems it caused, and it felt okay as long as plenty of matchsticks were around. In a way, this was what she wanted.
Tsing! Tsing!
She read the message. One word simply said “Out?”. As before, two icons flashed underneath, a tick and a cross, waiting for her to tap in response. Underneath lies an orange handprint. Looking back at her frozen friend she looks at her extended hand. She sees something that she hadn’t noticed before. Although the life-giving glow had left her body, a little amount of light remained in a specific area. She hadn’t seen it before because she was focusing on heating up her core.
In her outstretched hand there was a definite yellow glow, coating the palm, almost as if she had pressed it flat into some bright golden paint.
The blue girl shakily raised herself to her feet, and limped her way in front of the frozen girl. She stood, looking at the golden hand, and then to her eyes. The eyes showed a warmth, a warmth that lasted through time and death. She pressed her hand to hers.
A bright light burst forth from between their hands. The blue girl looked away as its shine blinded her unlidded eyes. She would have snatched her hand away, but a force was sucking their hands tightly together. She became aware of a warmth at her fingertips, that was spreading through her hand. She squinted at her hand as a yellow glow coating made its way down her arms towards her armpit and shoulder. She tried pulling away but it was no use, the warmth spread over her back and chest, and rapidly spread towards what was left of her chin. It wasn’t very painful, but she felt like every nerve and blood vessel was waking up. She saw her arm and leg growing back. It did hurt a little, but only in the way a sleeping leg is overwhelmed with blood rushing through its veins, and the way saliva glands in our cheeks spring to life at the first taste after a long time of no food. Every inch of her body was waking up for the first time in a long time.
Once the yellow coating had reached the tips of her toes, fingers and nose her hand was released from invisible hold, and the blinding light ceased immediately. Examining her body she saw that every inch had been restored to its former self, but brighter. Looking at the frozen girl the golden glow had gone and she remained frozen.
While she tried to understand what had just happened, she felt a pull from the other side of the wall, not physical but instinctual. She had a new desire to exit the room, something she would have never dreamed of doing before. Feeding her fingers through, she gave her friend’s hand a final squeeze, and approached the main wall.
Looking back at the handprint on the wall-screen she held her now orange hand in front of her and pressed it onto the frozen wall. Slowly but surely the ice began to melt around the palm of her hand. Holding it in place, the melting spread, creating a type of doorway. She assumed that on the other side would be another room, or maybe a hallway. But what she eventually saw shocked her.
Light streamed in from the outside and she raised her other arm to shield her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen natural light before. Once the doorway had grown large enough to fit her body through it, she stepped forward into the light.
The air was open and breezy. Light warmed her face as she half-smiled at the pleasing sensation. Surveying the surroundings in front of her she saw what was mostly sky, brushed with wispy clouds above a pale pink and yellow setting sun.
Beneath walked many orange people, strolling and greeting as they passed each other. All was calm, the environment was peaceful, the mood was contagious. She felt herself quite content inside, and wondered if it shone through to the outside. She turned back to look at her reflection and gasped at what she saw.
Directly above her towered giant blue blocks, floating in a grid-like fashion. Almost blocking out the sun completely, identical to each other they hovered, dominating the sky. After swallowing her surprise she looked back at the old room she just stepped from. From the outside it too appeared to be a gigantic blue block, however this one had shrunk. The doorway that she made had continued to melt through the walls, and the entire room was almost gone. Three walls seemed to remain, which created the appearance of a life-sized diorama. A moment in time, frozen, displaying an insight into her old life. The girl frozen in stasis, the room in a mess, with dead matchsticks scattered around the floor. Everything was melting away, including the girl.
Watching it all melt out of existence she felt a sense of clarity she had never experienced before, followed by an overwhelming feeling of gratitude; gratitude for the orange girl that gave everything to help her, for the sun that shone brilliantly above her, and for whatever it was that pulled her towards the light outside.
When the old room was completely gone she glanced back across the beautiful horizon, at the people contentedly making their way towards wherever it was they were going.
After a few deep breaths she stepped her way towards one of the giant blue boxes. The nearest was hovering just above the ground, low enough that it was just within reach. An empty square frame was melted into the wall, about a meter wide. She approached it and placed her hand onto the screen. It left a warm orange handprint behind. After a moment, another handprint appeared beside it, in a frozen blue colour. She smiled.
