Final Truth

Chapter 8: A Memory

Julia's point of view:

I lay huddled in the corner of my cell, shivering underneath a threadbare blanket they gave me.

I've been told that there would be no tests today and that I should be grateful for a day off, but it's hard to be grateful for anything anymore.

I can hear the sound of rain hitting the roof of this steel enclosure, an almost rhythmic sound that would be peaceful if not for the bitter cold.

I rub my hands shakily together and exhale on them, trying to provide myself with some heat; if only the cells weren't power-proof, I could make a small flame in my palms and everything would be okay again.

Only I can't, so I sit listening to the rain and shivering.

The entire ordeal brings forth a memory from the distant corners of my mind, one that didn't start out great but ended up being quite pleasant, specifically involving a once wonderful boy who now stands with his back facing the door to my cell, his jaw hard-set and his face angry with the lies that Henley filled him with.

"Oh Peter, if only you could remember," I whisper in despair, grasping the memory and holding it tight so as not to let it escape me yet...
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A little over three years ago is when the memory occurred, one very cold night as an eighteen year old me had accidentally locked myself out of my own house. The whole ordeal would've been funny if it wasn't ten degrees with sleet beginning to make everything worse.

I had just gotten home from a meeting with Adam and Susan about building a memorial for those who had died in the war and renovation for the dome, but I realized I had left the key to the house inside when I left.

My doors automatically lock when they're closed and I have a security system in place that prevents people with certain powers from just walking through my house, so I was stuck.

I tried picking the lock, but it didn't work; I tried breaking down the door, but I'm weak. Nothing would open it.

Adam and Susan would still be discussing plans for the city, and Cassia and Kyle were at their healing school. I didn't know what Peter was up to, but I was too numb from the cold to go and find him.

Defeated, I slumped against the side of my house and activated the power of the elements by lighting a tiny flame in my palms, letting it dance around my fingers to keep me from freezing. I even used the power of healing to regulate my body temperature, but I never felt the effects of either of these.

The rain had soaked through my coat and my shoes, leaving me chilled to the bone as ice crystals stuck to my hair and pelted the exposed skin on my face.

It was nearly nightfall, so the chance of getting help had been practically reduced to none.

My body had grown so stiff that further movement was impossible, so I couldn't even get up if I wanted to.

I wanted so badly to cry and scream at myself for being an idiot, but I was afraid my tears would freeze on my cheeks.

By then snow had begun to fall, collecting on my shoulders and my head. I could practically feel my lips turning blue with the great possibility of hypothermia in this detrimental weather, never having hated winter more in that instant than ever before.

My vision had begun to tunnel, the world around me spinning like a top. My body slumped over, my head making connection with the iced-over pavement. I could register a little pain, but I was too numb to cry out.

And then before me came a pair of shoes at my eye-level on the ground, and as I managed to look up, there also registered a pair of legs, and chest, shoulders, and a handsome face.