She Came With The Snow
Raven's P.O.V.
The Crawling Cough became a part of everyone's life. It was a truly devastating thing. Some said it wiped out others in other places across the lands that don't connect. You either have it, or you'll get it, and then shortly after, the spurs start jutting from the skin. Small obsidian-like crystals cover the body, some like webbing, some like spikes. No one knows why it's different, but it's never the same. Youth gives some reprieve. The young don't often get the cough until adulthood. Then in the latter half of the years, you go hollow. Most don't live through it; though they turn to ash and cinder, they do. Some go hollow before their older years. No one knows why. It's scary. The thought of losing someone to the hollow.
I lost Momma at birth before the Hollow got her. Father says it's not my fault, but I...still feel terrible. I wish she was around, Father tells me how she was a sweet woman. I would have loved her dearly. I wonder if she watches down upon me. Father says she'd be proud of the woman I've become, but I just don't know. I feel like I haven't done much.
My father, simple man that he is, just had to accept how things were. He took up farming after our church stopped having members visit. In the early days of the Crawling, everyone was so afraid of everyone else. There were riots, murders, shut-ins, you name it, and it happened. I was very young at the time, and Father and I had hopped around until this older couple, already afflicted, took us in. He worked on the farm until he got badly sick and inherited the church from the folks.
Now, though, since reality settled in and no one ever heals from the Cough, there are many fewer people to go about killing others recklessly now.
The crawling cough just started affecting me. I reached adulthood a few months ago, and Father is still pressing me about finding a suitable partner. I pray to the gods that I'll find a decent man.
I churn the log of the fire, letting the heat roll over the chill that settled in my bones. The old Saintmas decorations are still on the mantel, and the heat reminds me of the faint time before the cough. The rattling wheeze in my chest is becoming one of the permanent residents within me. It's an odd thing; it leaves me out of breath often, but never takes more than that. Youth really is a gift that shouldn't be squandered. It'll only get worse when I'm older. It's given my hands an odd shake they didn't have before, and I can't quite place what the constant shivers are from, nor can heat nor cold quell them.
Today's fall of wintry flakes marks the first of the darker days. Some say the cough only gets worse then, but I don't believe it. I agree with Father. It has to be a mental thing. Or there has to be some science behind it. Though my father hates it when I talk about science. Says it's not a woman's mind to be on such matters. Fathers old like that. I don't agree, but... I have to look past it. He's Father. He'll understand later. He has to.
Dinner was vegetable soup, which we pulled from our own garden. I love helping my father on the farm; it's such a nice thing to see things that aren't infected grow and be used. I have a theory on the cough. I think it's transmitted through the air and only affects people and things, as well as animals, but not plants.
A small knock at the door. I looked up, and my eyes met my father's back, who stood in the living room front doorway. He opened it. I couldn't hear the conversation or see the person. What I did see was the snow-covered bare feet of a girl with a towel wrapped around her. My father quickly rushed in to the snow-covered girl.
She wore only a thin, robe-like towel that draped down to her mid-thighs. Her blond hair and fair skin were a stark sign that she wasn't from this region. Time seems to freeze around us as she looks down at my place beside the fireplace. She giggles softly with a wave of her hand. She winks and gives me a small smile. Her form is shivering from the freezing winter wind. The snow coating her pale skin makes her look almost angelic. Her deep blue eyes met my amber ones.
My father's voice snapped me out of the stupor that those beautiful eyes left me in.
"Raven! Come take her to your room, get her a pair of clothes; she'll be staying with us for now."
"Yes, Father." I quickly rush upstairs to retrieve some clothes; I pick out an older dress of mine that I don't wear anymore as well as some undergarments. My face is burning from the small interaction.
She is very pretty.
