I'm on the floor.

My back half pressed against it, my side almost painfully slammed against it, unable to move. It fucking sucks; everything fucking hurts. There's blood beading out and down from my lower lip, and my glasses are askew. My long, dyed, white hair is all over the floor around me, like a snowflake from my head. I can hear the noise of everyone else leaving the classroom around me, and I don't care. Everything fucking hurts, but moving would probably hurt more. I close my eyes. I just want to sleep. Sleep it off, get something halfway decent from this. I can feel cold starting to wrap around me, which, considering how damn hot the room feels, is a welcome relief. I don't even care that the cold is coming from my fingertips. If anyone notices, they'll probably be stupid enough to assume it's just a by product of my poor control over our hereditary semblance. Of course, there's always a chance that I'm not surrounded by mostly mouth breathing idiots. But, by and large, that's probably not the case. I curl into myself, my eyes still closed.

I'm not even sure if I'm asleep.

Am I asleep, am I dreaming?

"Miss Schnee?"

I scream when I feel a hand touch my shoulder, only to feel embarrassed when I open my eyes and see it's just James. When I try to get up, however, I can't, instead burst into tears from the pain. Heels click against the floor. My head is throbbing. My body is sinking. And then warm hands lift me up, blonde hair brushing against my face.

"I don't think…"

I pause when I'm sat down in James' office, on a plush couch, Glynda wrapping a blanket around me. I then notice the mirror right across from me.

Something about my eyes is…wrong.

Are they…

I've never had anything but blue-green eyes.

But now, I swear, they're amber.

"You shouldn't have to be here," Glynda shook her head. "You have a job. I can't understand why Jacques is so insistent on keeping you here. You haven't got any more control over your powers than you did when you became the Winter Maiden."

"I don't want to do this," I mumble. "I'm tired of being Cate Lynn Schnee. It's never gotten me anything good."

The pain seems to be going away. I don't know how or why. It just…is.

"You don't have to be her," James gently replies. "You're more than just a name. You're a person, and if changing your name will help you, then -"

"Can you really do that?" I look between him and Glynda in shock. "Change my name, get me out of this disaster?" I hate it, but I start to cry again. "I can't handle this anymore…"

James and Glynda exchange glances.

"Yes," He finally says. "But, really, are you sure you want to change your name?"

"She wants to leave her life, James," Glynda counters. "That's a hell of a lot more than just changing her name."

"Let's start with just that, then," He sighs, picks up his scroll. "What do you want to be known as?"

I pause. I stare at myself in the mirror, the odd tint in my eyes still there. Without giving it a second thought, I all but rip the artificial white colouring out of my hair with the maiden powers, my eyes sparking even more than I could have sworn they were before.

Ashen black.

My natural hair colour.

I haven't seen it in years.

And, somehow, it's beautiful.

It's right.

It's me.

The pain is almost completely gone. I have no idea what's happening, what's causing any of this. Was it all in my head? Was none of what happened in that combat class real?

Or was I just giving into the expectations of me as a Schnee?

"You don't have to have a new name, now," Glynda puts in. "Just…well, first, how do you feel?"

I manage to laugh for the first time in ages. "Like I'm finally free," I admit, unable to stop this laughing. Where the hell did this high come from? "Broken through the chains of being a fucking Schnee! I have no fear, I'm wide awake, I'm…"

I trail off, my eyes still treacherously taunting me from inside the mirror.

"I'm Cinder," I say, a thrill running through me. "Cinder Fall. I'm…I might as well have been reborn after these," I pause, disdainfully taking in the powers of the Winter Maiden sparking around me. "Freezing flames. And I've fallen far as a Schnee. Can't fall any further, can I?"

Glynda smiles. "You always have enjoyed irony, haven't you?"

"Interesting name," James hums while he puts it into the system. "Where do you want to go?"

I pause.

"Vale," I finally say. "Anything to get away from here."

They're silent.

"You don't have to go too quickly," James says, a nervous edge to his voice. "I know things are bad, but -"

"My mother tried to kill my fucking siblings, my father raped her just so he could have the ability to use another child as a manipulation tactic!" I'm startled by my own voice. "And he doesn't even seem to care about me anymore, and my mother has fallen so far I can't even recognise her! What do I have left here?"

They're still silent.

"I've spent the last few months asking myself who the fuck am I supposed to be!" I'm shaking, now. "I've run off on my own before, only to be dragged back! I clearly can't take it! Why should I stay? What reasons do I even have to stay? Winter can do everything I can for my younger siblings and probably more!"

Even still, they don't say anything.

I don't know how much time passes from then.

Corrective surgery to disavow my need for glasses. I still keep them out of nostalgia.

Other than that?

All I know is James eventually hands me a Valerian passport with my new photo. He manages to get everything I own to send with me in several suitcases. I get on a plane. I land in Vale, go to an apartment he had arranged for me. I don't know who's paying for it.

Within a few days I get a job. Also in PR, also attacking the SDC.

Another way to be free.

"You're a bit of a bitch," An orange-haired man at work tells me, a hat perched on his head and a long white jacket and cane with him despite him being so clearly my age.

"Am I?"

He doesn't know how to respond. I take a glance at his badge.

Roman Torchwick.

Huh.

Maybe, like me, he's run away too.

I just wonder what he'd be running from.

Then again, there are probably over a million people who are wondering what happened to me.

Over a million people who think I'm dead.

Over a million people who might also be asking:

"What was she running from?"