8. Evangeline

8

EVANGELINE

I feel my body wracking with tension as I remain steadfast in my defiance. The senior members of the council glare down at me with disgust for what I've done. I return the same expression, praying my courage will somehow persuade their hearts as cold as our climate.

But even as I wear a brave face, fear reaches its tendrils inside of me. Slivers of doubt worm their way into my mind, whispering that my resistance is futile.

It won't work, why are you trying? Just give up…

I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to drown out the noise. But it only grows louder as a chant begins to pick up amongst the gathering of settlement residents.

"Expel her! Expel her!"

More and more chime in, shouting their clear disregard for my well-being. The pit in my stomach grows deeper with each chorus. Even the children are chanting.

"No," I mutter, a voice silent amidst the loudening notes of anguish.

Never have I felt more unwanted, aghast rushing through my veins as my heartbeat quickens. If I were to drop dead now, would that satisfy these people?

I try to push out the thought that they see me as the runt of the settlement, facing the council once again and swallowing my fear.

"We have spoken," Harold states, his voice booming louder than the chanting. "So have the good people of our settlement."

A hand is raised, silencing the residents as the leader leans forward in his seat, wearing a wicked grin on his sinister face. Goosebumps crawl along my skin at the sight.

"It would be wise to leave on your own accord, Evangeline. While you still can."

"While I still can?" I repeat, the words causing my throat to close up. "I beg of you to have a heart! It's the dead of winter out there. You know how unforgiving the cold is!"

"And?"

The reply is so mockingly spoken that I feel it weakens my strength. I cannot stop a tear from falling. But I can't give up, I won't go down without a fight.

"If you cast me out now then death will claim me. I know what I did was wrong, but if you allow me to stay then I will pull double duty. Just don't send me out alone, please."

It's my last shot. The residents break out into their chant once more, this time louder in volume by the growth in numbers.

"Expel her! Expel her!"

"Silence!" Harold repeats, his hand enclosed into a fist. "Evangeline, the council has said all it has to say on the matter. I suggest you go pack your belongings."

The crowd breaks out into a cheer as the council glares down with evil pride. I look at my dwindling number of friends amidst the villagers, slowly retreating until I can see them no more.

In that moment, an unbridled rage barges its way past my sadness, propelling me into a fury.

"No!" I holler, my voice drowning out every other in the vicinity.

Some residents double-take, stepping back in concern. Even the council members drop their smiles, exchanging looks of concern as I defiantly march closer.

"You may hand me your verdict but you do not control me. If you so badly want me out of here, then you'll have to throw me out yourself."

Harold snarls at me. I spin around, facing the cowardly faces of the settlement.

"This is my home as much as it is yours. We need each other in this cold and brutal world, yet you're eager to rid yourself of the responsibility of another human life, how shameful!"

I see their disgust, anger, and confusion written across their faces. The children are pulled back to safety as if I'm a threat.

"I will not be wrongly ousted!"

I shoot one last glare over my shoulder, my eyes meeting the angered stares of the council members.

Then, I break away from the gathering. Settlers part as I approach like I'm some kind of monster, only adding to this newfound feeling of loneliness.

I stop and turn to face Renee. She immediately turns away, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"Traitor," I growl.

I let out a frustrated sigh of contempt, fighting the urge to spit at her feet. But I'm not that low, not even on my worst day.

Making way for my dwelling, I retreat into the comfort of my safe space, being sure to check outside my home for any pursuers. Once the coast is clear, the threshold is shut.

I start a fire, partly to get warm but mostly to distract myself from what just happened. As the snaps and crackling ripple through the enclosed space, thoughts of alienating the entire community against me grow louder in volume.

"There's no one who can help me now," I say to myself. "Fuck."

I take the fireplace poker next to my bedding. It feels so wrong to equip myself for the worst, but nothing is off limits now that they've exiled me.

"I won't go, they can't make me."

My attempts at self-reassurance don't work. I let the poker fall to the floor as my head collapses into my hands.

"It was nothing more than a simple joke," I mutter. "And now the whole world is out to get me."

This settlement was all I had. It's a strange and sickening feeling to know those you once trusted and worked with are now against you.

There's nowhere else I have to go. No one I can look to for help.

A sudden dread fills me as I come to terms with the fact I'm now in enemy territory. I don't know what's next, but life is going to be lived on a constant edge from this moment on.

I recline onto the bedding, the soft furs the only comfort I have. But it's not enough to stop a blistering headache wreaking its havoc.

I grip the blanket and pillow tight and close my eyes, keeping the poker close by.

"I'm too exhausted for this," I mutter. "But at least I've still got this bed to keep me warm and a roof over my head." And with that, I fall asleep.

I see myself laying there, sleeping without a trouble in the world. My image is frozen, like the paintings done by the children in the village.

Then another image, blurs of figures surrounding me, identities I cannot make out. I see myself carried, though to where I do not know.

The dream is still and unmoving, but there's something about it that feels all too real. All I can do is watch each tainted picture go by, wondering when this nightmare will end.

Slowly, I bat my eyes open, grumbling as I'm suddenly blinded by the sun's unforgiving light.

My face is warm, kissed by the gentle heat. My breath comes out in short bursts of vapor, but why?

Then I feel the chill piercing my thick clothing. I clutch my blanket but my hands are empty. My pillow feels thinner than ever. Where's the roof gone?

"What the!"

My body shoots upward, propelled by a wave of panic. My chest moves quickly as I hyperventilate, feeling the icy air fill my throat and lungs.

Instinctively, I reach for my weapon but it's not there. Nothing is. It's just… me.

"Where the fuck am I!"

I blink as I rise to my feet, hoping I'm still dreaming as I cast a look at my surroundings.

Ice, snow, stone, and more ice.

"No," I mutter. "It feels too real… But this has to be a dream."

I hold onto the quickly diminishing glimmer of hope as I remove my glove and lay my hand bare on the ground.

I pull it back quickly, feeling the teeth of the freezing temperature sink its fangs into my skin. It takes only three seconds, just as it does in real life.

Reality is dawning, hitting me with a rude and sudden wind nipping at my skin. I turn and pull my hood up, waiting for it to pass.

I notice the gleam of the sun off the ice and my shadow on the ground. The wind passes, yet still, I fall to my knees.

"No," I gasp.

I want to scream but my body won't let me. I can hardly breathe, fighting for air as I momentarily lose control to panic.

"No, no!"

I pound a fist down on the ice, only hurting myself in the act. Cringing, I grip it and cast another look around, hoping against hope that at any moment, this living nightmare will end.

But I know now this is no nightmare. This is real. The worst has come to fruition.

I have no clue how I was brought here, nor are there any footprints for me to follow. A fresh coat of snow on the ground has seen to that.

"Someone brought me here," I mutter. "And they knew just where to leave me."

Nausea enwraps its measly grip around my stomach, tightening the dread within me. I fight off the urge to get sick and inhale a deep breath.

But the cold wind makes even breathing painful. I adjust my coat and pull the fabric around my nose and mouth. It does little to stop the cold but I can at least breathe this way.

"How?" I cry, desperate for an answer.

Behind me is a hill, the slope of which is coated with snow. It helps me keep my grip as I make the ascent.

I have to stop to catch my breath. I know for a fact I'm up higher than I'm accustomed to, the lack of oxygen apparent as I fight off a light faintness.

But nothing prepares me for the sight that greets me when I reach the peak of the hill.

"Oh, sweet merciful gods…"