Young Writers Society

In the quiet of the room, my thoughts screamed and bounced off the walls like rubber balls.

Why would they make me roommate with him?

Couldn’t someone else be here besides me?

I know somewhere, in a deep and dark portion of my soul, I wish someone else would be here besides me. I wonder what happened to my family once they realized I was gone. Did they cry deeply? Have a moment of silence that weighed heavy with grief? Forget? Hopefully it wasn’t the latter. I had a good family, my mother and father cared for me so much, and I tried to be the best daughter I could be. My dad was always there to pick me up when I fell, and my mom was near to help kiss everything better. My problems cannot be kissed away anymore.

My parents must be gone now, since so many years have passed. I still can’t believe that my old life is gone, my parents, my friends, everything I once knew. Including staying up late with my friends Angelina and Brittney. The strong scent of nail polish would fill the small room while we danced to our new records in our pajamas. Angelina would be twirling her golden hair around her finger while she gossiped about the hottest guys. We would try to stay awake until the first person (most of the time Brittany) fell asleep so we could cover her face in whipped cream. Brittany would wake up devastated that she went to bed so early, but would always laugh it off while she licked the cream from her face. We would go to the theater after school and grab three cherry Cokes afterwards at the local dinner, Pete’s. All those precious moments that we had will only be memories now.

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to subdue my emotions. I can’t think like that now. There is no time for me to walk down the painful memory lane. I have more stressing matters to ponder like how I was going to deal with the Winter Soldier as my roommate. He sure didn’t seem like the type that would paint his nails with me while we danced to records.

Just as I thought of his name, the light under the door shut off as he slowly started unlocking the door and turning the knob. I took a deep breath to collect myself since I have no idea what is going to happen next, but I’m trying not to assume the worst.

His metal hand scrapes against the knob willing it to turn. My ears are in pain as the noise assaulted them. The door finally screeched open, and all I saw was his silhouette in the darkness.

His metal arm glowed and sparkled in the dark as he broke through the shadows. This tips of his hair was the next thing that ripped through the hold of the night. Water droplets fell gracefully from the tips, as the strands of his hair hugged closely together. Then those blue eyes, they held so much in them. I can’t believe anything so beautiful could exist in human form. He finally came out of the dark and walked toward me. I held my breath as he came closer, about three feet away from where I sat.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.” he said in a gruff but smooth voice. It sounded American. I don’t know what to say, after all, this is the first time he ever talked to me.

“I… uh… it’s okay.” There was an awkward silence as he just stood there watching me. I felt that if I said anything, it would ruin the moment.

I crossed my legs in attempt of moving a bit so I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable. He took a couple steps forward, his face was about 10 inches away from mine.

“Why are you here.” His tone didn’t sound like he was asking a question, more like he was saying a statement.

“Um,” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts.“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I just woke up and I was in year 2018.” I sighed. I hated moments like this. Those weird introductions and sharing all the deep stuff. I’m not good with small talk.

I looked to the right so I could avoid his intruding eyes as I bit my bottom lip nervously.

Breaking the silence, Winter added in a still and small voice, “I’m from about the same year.” I was confused and zoning out, the memories still trying to yank me back.

“What? I… I don’t understand.”

“The last years of freedom for me were around the 40’s.” His voice kept getting softer as he progressed. His eyes shifted to the empty space beside me on the bed like he wanted to sit there, but couldn’t get up the courage to do so.

I have to say something. I can’t just let him desperately stand there longing for a seat. I tried to swallow, but my mouth became incredibly dry.

Giving up on that, I took a deep breath and said out in a rush, “You can sit here if you want to.”

He looked at the space and then back up at me, as if pleading with his eyes to make sure he was worthy enough to sit near me. I was surprised to be honest. No one ever was that excited, or most likely nervous, to sit by me.

To avoid talking, I just nodded my head toward the empty space. Finally, he sat down but made sure to be a good amount of space away from me even though he wasn’t shy about personal boundaries earlier.

“Does HYDRA want you as a soldier too?” he said it so soft it was lower than a whisper, almost in a squeak, but in a more manly manner.

“I guess,” I said, staring at the stained beige carpet. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“There has to be a reason. HYDRA always has reasons.”

Of course they had a reason, I wouldn’t be here for nothing. But, I’m not special or important in any way, so I don’t know why they would even look in my direction, much less pick me to be their new test subject.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I mumbled. “I hope I’m not intruding or anything like that but, why did HYDRA pick you?” I said it so soft I didn’t think he heard me. There was a long pause, and we are both looking to the floor, trying to avoid eye contact.

How can I be so selfish, so greedy for answers? I thought I could get to know him, probably understand him this place a little better, but I ruined everything.

“I don’t know. I don’t know much about my life before… this. My mind is all blurry now and nothing makes sense anymore, thanks to all of the experiments.”

“Experiments?” I cut in to ask. They already had me here, doing who knows what to my body. Why would there be anything more, anything worse?

“You’ll find out one day, if you stay. Hopefully,” his non-metal hand softly brushes my leg. “you won’t find out.”

His hand was cold, the tips of his fingers made rough by calluses. As he brushed my leg, only the tips made contact with my body. His knuckles were covered in dark scars and open wounds. His fingertips felt strong, but not rough or harsh. It seemed as if his hands, like his eyes portrayed, that he went through excruciating pain.

I turned away from him, not ready to feel the warmth of another person. He makes me all jumbled inside, not knowing where I was or what was happening. All I know is that he is here, with his wet brown hair and silver arm.

“I don’t think I’ll leave anytime soon, so I should know what I’m going into tomorrow.” I don’t want to stay here oblivious of everything and have reality slap me in the face at the last second.

“Really I don’t think you want to…”

“Yes, I’m very sure I want to know. Please?”

“If you insist. But know that I warned you.” His face dropped, like someone was torturing him to tell me the truth. I have the right to know, don’t I? Life here is confusing already, and it hasn’t even been a full day.

I sit patiently, waiting for the horrors to come. His eyes are shiny as he looks down at his arm. He opens and closes his metal fist, slowly at first, and then steadily increasing until it was so fast it made my vision blur. He slammed his titanium hand leg palm facing down, the loud sound of metal hitting flesh. It sounded painful, but he didn’t seem to notice the pain.

“Telling you breaks me on the inside, but I must.” He sighs, the sound filling the room, similar to an animal preparing for its slaughter. “What you’re about to here won’t be easy, but you have to know since you’ll be living here in all.”

I brace myself.

“I’m ready.”

* * * *

“They wipe me of everything. Until, I’m lying there, missing. There’s this chair, they connect me to it. It takes everything out of me. All my memories, all my fears, all my dreams. Until there is nothing except for a mindless body, a hull of a man. First it was Dr. Zola, then it was Dr. Bauer who were paid to watch me suffer, to watch me break from the inside. There to applaud as I shatter into a million pieces that will never come back together. Where they toy with my brain and play with me like a puppet to do and bid their will. They chant words in my ears that turn off any sense of resistance. I won’t say the words though. I will probably never think on my own ever again. I don’t know, it’s too big of a risk to say.

“They lean me back slowly. Bind my arms with titanium cuffs to the chair. They put a device in my mouth, to protect my teeth from the shock. They clamp the cool, black metal on my head as it squeezes my brain as if it would explode. They smirk at me as if to say, ‘You are mine now,’ as they press the large, ugly and green button. They shock me three times at the least. Depending how bad I was, maybe six. It pierces through my brain, quickly but slowly at the same time. The neurons that were connected rip apart from each other as if the other had some strange disease they didn’t want to contract. Everything is gone.

“I’m still shaking from the electricity as they chant. They laugh as I shake and shiver like I’m having a seizure. My metal arm opens and closes to the beat of the words ‘till I can’t keep up,

‘till I can’t understand. The words take everything else that was left of me.

They then say ‘Soldier?’ I respond with a cold, dark, and sinister voice that doesn’t belong to me. ‘Ready to comply.’

“I don’t remember much of anything after I utter those three words. They assign me on missions. To capture, to torture, to kill. I never say no. I can’t say no. If I did, I would die. I kill others, so that is probably what I deserve. To die and be left alone with the whispers and screams of my victims. To be left alone with thoughts and fractured memories that never seem to make sense. To be left alone with me, myself and I.

“I want a place where I can’t hurt anyone. Where they can’t have me, can’t control me. Where I can go and just be me, for once in my life. I don’t know who ‘I’ am but I would be able to find out if they just left me alone. I could piece back my memories and discover who I was before this all happened.

“But, that is a fantasy that will never come true. I’m stuck here and there is nothing I can do. You can’t do anything either, but since you wanted to know all about me, I guess I had to tell you the truth, right? That is what you wanted. All I have to say is to try to stay strong. Before they slowly tear you apart. From the inside.”

* * * *

His voice cracked at the end. He abruptly stood, as if he was in a dream and just woke. He walked quickly to the corner of the room, the farthest place he could be from where I sat. Slowly facing the wall silently, his loud boots making no sound at all on the carpet. His body shook, like he was sobbing, but no tears fell from his eyes, not even the slightest glossiness was evident.

I started to stand, but I think if I would interfere, I would make him more broken. I did this to him; I ripped open his wounds and watched them slowly bleed. I broke his bones and let him lie on the ground crippled and alone.

Would this me one day? HYDRA breaking me so much that I would one day be like him? Would I forget who I am and what happiness is? I want to comfort him so badly, so badly it hurts me to watch him struggle. But, if I touch him, he might lash out or fall down and sob, and I don’t know what I would do or how I would react.

As he slowly slid down the wall and onto the floor, I noticed his eyes. It looked like he was looking straight at me but, somehow, he wasn’t. They were like he was zoning out into the distance. His blue eyes didn’t have that beautiful, icy glow. They were dull now and almost dead looking. He wasn’t himself anymore. He was HYDRA’s.

I can’t bear the sight of him like this. Especially since I was the creator of this madness, this horror that was playing before my eyes. I quietly tiptoed around him, noticing for the first time in awhile that I was barefoot, except for the thin coating of my stockings. The carpet squished softly beneath my toes, comforting me as I crept along. I was walking around a live time bomb.

I slipped into the bathroom and slowly turned the knob to close the door. My hands kept slipping on the cool metal because of my sweating hands and nervousness. Inserting the key into the keyhole and with a quick turn of the wrist, I am safe from the cruel outside.

I sighed, as the sound bounced off the empty walls. Outside the door, I heard a soft moan, like a puppy calling for its mother.

“Winter…” I mumbled, answering his cry of pain. My eyes started to sting, and I forced the pain away. Not now, when I need to think. My tears rebelled as they fell down my cheek. I looked up from my feet and faced myself in the mirror. The eyes that stared back were deep, green, and empty. The tears that filled them were on the brink of overflowing, and the previous already created a path of salt stains running down the person’s cheeks. Freckles dotted the nose and sparsely all over the face. Anyone could tell this person was in pain. The untucked, wrinkled, white shirt was evidence of some sort of tusel, but this was not where the pain came from. Stockings dotted with holes and a small black skirt that covered half of one of them. The person in front of me, she was empty on the inside. That person is me.

Splashing my face with the cold water of the faucet, I tried to rid myself of the thoughts. What caused the holes in my stockings? The wrinkling of my shirt? It certainly wasn’t Winter, he was too gentle to try to hurt me. Unless…

No. They couldn’t have. Then again, these people have no conscious, so maybe? I slammed my fist on the counter, watching the old mirror hanging on the wall rattle. I’m living with a man that doesn’t know his own mind. These people thwart anything that is humane. They’ve exceeded inhumane, they are diabolical, malicious, barbaric, malignant, truculent…

Thinking of how bad HYDRA is isn’t going to get me anywhere. I need a plan of action. I need to help Winter get back to normal again. It was my fault so I should be the one to fix him. I make him sound like he is a jigsaw puzzle and it is my job to put him back together again. He is not like that, he is a person with feelings and emotion and a life before all this. I think I’ll bathe, it helps me think.

The bath looked different, there was a fancy head on the top that is detachable. Different from the one I had at home, where this invention was inexistent. I didn’t feel like investigating, so I turned on the faucet and got out of my garments as the water slowly filled the tub.

I stepped in and closed my eyes, relaxing to the pulsing sound of water hitting water and the softness of my beating heart. As I lowered my head into the steaming water, thoughts from my past bombarding me.

Why?

Why me?

Why did they hurt him so?

Where is my family now?

I knew where my family was, and everything I once knew. Six… Feet… Under. I jolted my head out of the water, my lungs needing air and my mind needing to stop. My soaking hair slapped the wall behind me as I flipped it out of my eyes. I can’t do this anymore. This life. Winter. HYDRA. My (presumably) dead family. I’m cracking on the inside. Close to breaking, but not quite. And it hasn’t even been a day yet in this crazy place.

Why can’t I handle this? I owe it to Winter to not break. If I break, who is going to help him come back together? Who will put a Band-Aid on his wounds and watch them heal? I have to be that person. I have to help him gain back the life HYDRA stole from him. If I don’t, I’ll be lying on the ground next to him, the pieces of my life scattered across the horizon.

After my bath, I stepped out and unplugged the drain. The soft gurgle was a lullaby to my groggy mind. But then I realized.

I don’t have clean clothes. Oh God.

I quickly put the white cotton towel around my waist and unlocked the door. With a deep breath, I swung it open, facing Winter in the dark.

His eyes slowly drifted, dull and broken still, but at least not staring into the distance. Sweat dotted his forehead, his hair slightly damp by perspiration. He was shivering, but not shaking as harshly as before.

“What are you doing?” his voice was hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken in years.

It was cold and harsh, not the usual softness that lies behind his guarded tone. He hugged his knees tighter, as if to guard himself from me. His bulletproof jacket was off and it lied in a crumpled heap next to him. His bare chest had a sheen to it, from the sweat I presume. His metal arm was shining brightly, now free of covering and the star a deeper red than ever before. Red scar tissue met the metal and ringed around the stopping point of his prosthesis. The scars snaked toward his broad chest where the steady up and down motion was the only thing that assured me he was alive. A frown was stitched on his face and his lips a deep red, like his cheeks.

“I… was a… taking a bath and I… where are the clean clothes?” I stuttered like crazy. One word could set him off, so I have to be extra cautious.

“Closet. Left side.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled softly as I tiptoed to the closet door. Hoisting up the towel to keep it from sliding, I opened the door as Winter’s eyes followed my every move.

Water droplets fall from my hair as I struggle to open the closet door while holding up my towel. Grabbing a black t-shirt with matching leggings and the classic undergarments, I hurriedly closed the closet door and rushed back into the bathroom.

Slipping the key in the keyhole and turning it once more, I sighed as I slid down the wall. I let the towel fall around me, safe from Winter’s peering eyes. I dressed slowly, not ready to face the stress that came with being in Winter’s presence.

I peered into the mirror. Black isn’t really my color, but I better get used to it, since there is a lot of black around here. I towel dried my hair roughly, but no matter how hard I tried, it was still damp. As long as it is clean, I really don’t care. I straightened out the wrinkles in my shirt as best as I could. It was a little big for me, longer than my arm length at the sides. The leggings fit perfectly, surprisingly. I thought it would be a little bigger or smaller. Not perfect. They must know my size somehow… weird. I looked at my new self as my mind started to wander.

Did someone wear this outfit before me?

If so, where are they now?

I shivered. There was only one reason why the owner of this outfit wasn’t wearing it. The undergarments look new, so I guess Aldemar was right. I am the first girl.

I have to leave this bathroom sometime. I can’t be cooped up in here forever. I turned off the lights first, and turned to my silhouette in the mirror. The beige walls looked black in the darkness and the only thing that shone through it was the silver shine of the faucet. My back faced the mirror as I gripped the key and faced the door. The teeth bit into my palm and stung. Blood dyed the metal as I inserted the key into the hole. A hollow click sounded in the stillness, and then I, once again, turned the knob.

He stood. His eyes glowed again, not as bright, but better than earlier. All I saw was his arm, sparkling like a diamond in the night.

“You’re done?” his voice was still gruff, but sounded like he was recovering.

“Uh… yeah. You okay?” I was nervous still. He could lash out anytime. He looked better, but looks can deceive.

He was silent. Looking down, he noticed his jacket was still off. His face turned a deep red as he reached down to pick up his jacket. Facing his back to me, he slipped it back on quickly, but struggled, since there were multiple buckles.

Turning back around and facing the ground, his eyes slowly drifted upward, his hair blocking his face. I swallowed slowly. Is going to lunge for me? Break down and cry? He doesn’t seem like a crier, but HYDRA turned him inside out. I think I know something about him, but really, I don’t. It’s a horrible thought to think, but I’m slightly scared of what he might do next.

“Why are you frightened by me?” his voice was smooth like butter but sharper than a knife at the same time. The question was so abrupt. I didn’t expect him to know I was frightened, or even ask that question.

“I’m… I’m not frightened or any-”

“Don’t lie to me.” He looked me straight in the eyes, his look piercing into my soul.

“I… I just… I’m concerned. About you.”

“You should get used to it. This is who I am now. I’m not going back to that happy kid from my childhood fantasies.”

I can’t go back either. All the time that I missed and the people I’ve lost, there is no choice for me too. I guess we have that in common. With his back slightly turned to me, I walked up slowly. I lightly stroked his back with the tips of my fingers like my mother used to do. He stiffened under my touch.

“I am so sorry Winter.” I cooed “I wish you never had to go through those-” He spun around so fast, it was like a blur. He threw my arm off of his back forcefully like I was a toy he didn’t want to play with anymore. I gasped quietly.

“I don’t want your sympathy!” He shouted inches away from my face. I could feel the anger rolling off of him.

“I’m not some lost puppy you need to save or broken pieces of a person. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me!” I stood, frozen, gaping at his sudden change of character. “Just leave me alone.” He turned and went back to his favorite corner.

I sighed. I’ve had this all wrong. I want to help him, but it he doesn’t want me to, but that’s okay though. As long as he is happy with me leaving him alone, I will. I just… wish he would confide in me. He doesn’t want to though, and I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry, Winter.” I mumbled, facing his back. “Truly.”

He turned his face in my direction, the cold expression still cowering his features.

“Words don’t fix things like this.”

He climbed into the bottom bunk, clothes and all. He laid on top, not getting under the warmth of the wool bed coverings. Lying on his back and closing his eyes, he mumbled, “Good night, Victoria. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Good night.” I guess that was the end of it.

Looking up at the clock above the closet door, it read 1 o'clock am. No wonder he wanted to sleep. Especially because of all the emotional strain I put him through. I swear, as long as I’m alive, and with Winter, I will never, ever, force him to say anything he doesn’t want to. It caused him more harm than good, and the same for me.

After climbing up the ladder to the top bunk, I sat on side of the bed, my feet dangling over the edge. I started to swing them to the beat of Winter’s soft snores. I peeked over the side, and looking at him right now, he is so peaceful. I carefully hopped down, and covered him with the scratchy, brown wool blanket. I swept his damp hair out of his face, and I realized, his features are so soft. He is smirking slightly in his sleep, and a dimple is forming in his right cheek.

“Goodnight Winter, or whoever you were before all this. Sweet dreams.” I whispered in his ear. His smile started to grow as I climbed up the ladder.

Slipping under the scratchy warmth, my mind started to slightly wander. I don’t know what I am feeling, comfort, love, happiness, fear. Feelings don’t make sense to me anymore. They must of messed with that part of me while I was asleep. I do know I’m scared for what tomorrow brings. Hearing what Winter had to say, I know that being here will not be easy.

I know that I will be here for Winter, and hopefully he will be here for me. No matter what tomorrow brings.

“You should get used to it. This is who I am now. I’m not going back to that happy kid from my childhood fantasies.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t want your sympathy!”

“What are you doing?”

“Before they slowly tear you apart, from the inside.”

His words are my bedtime story. He is my comfort. This beautiful, broken man holds all the words to all my songs. He is my broken lullaby. That is the only thing that will make me drift into a peaceful, thoughtless, sleep.