Helpless

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. For the longest time, the curtains were closed, but they were gone now. Many things were gone; The flowers by her bed, the steady string of nurses, including her favorite, JoMei, even the flower dresses from her closet—though she wouldn’t be needing those much longer anyway. The only things that didn’t change, the constants in her life, was the tick ... beep, tick ... beep, from the white machine next to her and, now, the window.

She used to know the outside world, but the war that changed everyone’s lives started long after the fall that changed hers’. And now her short life sentence seemed insignificant. Everyone, including her, were on the same timeline now. It wasn’t the last window left in the world, but the small, four-pane, dusty glass portal in the corner of her dad’s room was the last in her world. She considered the days she could see over the city lucky. The plumes of smoke she could see rising from the distance over the hill danced for her, and the war planes that flew over the city sparkled like dragons from the stories JoMei used to read to her. But most days she could see only the wall. She couldn’t tell anyone she enjoyed looking out the window, of course, there was no way for her to communicate, but she appreciated it nonetheless when her mother angled her head north after her morning bath.

It was dark in the room the day it happened. At first she thought they had put the curtain back, and her heart sank knowing that she’d likely never see the smoke dancing or the planes flying again. She must have been crying, because the curtain became blurry. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, the curtain smeared and started to move. Slowly, the curtain that was blocking the window transformed into a tall, slender figure wearing a cloak of swirling shadows. The figure turned, and looked at her.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked in a sad voice. “You’ve been expecting me, haven’t you?” He said, turning to the window. “You’ve been expecting me ever since you fell from that tree all those years ago.” He looked old, frail, and tired. He looked like her grandfather before he passed and he withered away. He must have looked like she did. “It will be a busy day for me,” He said. The girl was not afraid, for the man was right. She had been expecting death for years now. Not in fear, but in hope. “Do you know why I’ve come to you?” He said, still looking out the window. It was the definition of a perfect day. White, puffy clouds hung above the expanse of the city. Shades of sunset reflected off the tallest building's windows, bruising the skyline with purples and pinks. There was no black smoke dancing above the hills. It was a day she might hope to see a bird fly by. "You will die today”, the man said, interrupting her thoughts. “But I’ve come to you because you are not afraid.”

He walked over to her bed, shadowy cloak billowing behind him. He towered over her. But still, she was not afraid. He pointed towards the window, “They are all afraid. They should be, for what they fear will happen soon. Fear stinks.”

As he moved towards her, she noticed that she could see through him, as if he was nothing more than the smoke that blew up from behind the hills. As she looked around her room, her eyes fell on the window. The city blazed. He moved, and the sunset returned. “They couldn’t have stopped it,” he said. “It was always going to be this day. But no one likes thinking they’re helpless.” He looked at her again, his gray eyes throbbed with empathy. “You’ve been waiting for this day. Do you wish to watch?” He turned again, to look out the window, and when he did his cloaked kicked up and blocked her view, and for another moment the city blazed. “It will be spectacular.”

She knew the war was bad, but never believed it would be the end times. It never made a difference to her. Until seeing the city in ruins, she almost welcomed a bomb bursting through the ceiling. Maybe she'd see the sky from the south for a moment before it all went dark for good. She never wanted that for the rest of the world. He was still staring out the window when he pointed to the sky. Thousands of sparkling dots lined the horizon.

"They are here." He said, and walked over to the bed once more. "I can smell that you are afraid. I will not make you watch." He whipped his cloak over her head. Through the swirling smoke she could see the room. The flowers were back beside her bed. Her closet was opened, and she could see her dresses. Out the window, she saw blue skies. Grey warships bobbed in the bay. Birds flew over the city. The white machine next to her never changed. Tick ... beep. Tick ... beep. Tick ... boom.