Numb and Cold
She hated the cold, because of what it reminded her of.
Juri K/Jeri
Rating: T
Genre/s: Family/Hurt/Comfort
She was four when she felt her mother's touch for the last time. The cold, slightly rubbery hand that fell from her own clasped ones as the brown eyes lost the last of their light. Strong hands pulled her away: her father's strong and slightly calloused ones, a little cold themselves through her summer green dress…or perhaps her own body temperature had dropped.
The now single father reached a trembling hand out and slid the lifeless eyes shut as a doctor whose name the child did not know covered the corpse with a white sheet.
'Her spirit is with you,' he murmured, and her father nodded in agreement. She however trembled in withdrew.
'Where?' she sobbed, backing away from the cold rubber gloves of the nurse that reached for her. 'Where?'
And she fled. Running away from the cold touch of death in search for her mother, and that warm touch against her skin.
She never found it again. Neither did she the last, the cold dead flesh that stained her final moments. Because the layers she burrowed beneath: the warm water running through her fingers and the sugar buns keeping her core warm.., as well as the more figurative heaters of smiles, laughs and the image of general contentedness that kept the heat filled with life, drawing in all and burning those who got too close.
Because cold was death, something she at the time was too young to understand. But it still changed her, even if she had never realized it until death touched her heart again and turned the protective layer of heat into ice.