The Snow

I stumbled forward. My feet slipped on the snow. It was fresh, not too heavy or watery. Perfect and clean. I hated to ruin it. But I kept shuffling forward. Every step felt like a mile I had to traverse. The stark blue sky shifted dizzily in my vision. Another step. This one was shorter than the last. How long had I been walking? I didn’t know. The snow stretched out endlessly in front of me. To my left there were some trees. Yes, I would make it to the trees, I told myself. I clutched my faded canvas coat around my shoulders and turned toward the woods. It was so cold. The air burned my freezing nostrils. It felt like I was breathing in half icy water. Just to the trees. They seemed to get further and further from me. They spun. Still. I needed them to be still. I needed them to be closer. I quickened my steps as a burst of adrenaline hit me. My feet plunged through the cold snow, and I could finally tell the trees were getting closer.

Then they slipped out from under me. The cold snow met the skin beneath the torn fabric on my knees. All adrenaline had left my body. I gingerly tried to stand. I lifted one leg, and it took all my strength. Instantly I was collapsing back into the ground. My hands were red and numb with cold. Every breath felt more like swallowing ice water. I rolled onto my back, and lay staring up at the bright blue above me.

I would rest now, I thought. Rest a little before I got to the trees, and then after. Then I’ll have the strength. I turned my head. The woods were so much closer, I had really been moving. Good. I felt softer and lighter now that I wasn’t standing. I was still so cold. My hands traced the frosted, crisp surface of the snow. I started coughing. My hair had fallen into my mouth in my collapse. Clumsily I raised my hand to brush it away. A heavy warm liquid remained on my face. I looked down at the snow beneath me. My blood stained the white a rusty brown. I swirled it with my fingers. When I was a child, my mother would dress me in layers and layers of warm clothing when school got called off for the first big winter storm. My old black coat now was nothing compared. I chuckled. She would be so mad if she saw me now, freezing with nothing but a light coat. So different it was now than those childhood days. She would take a checkered wool scarf, and wrap it around my neck, and send me out the door with a kiss. And then I would run, run even though the heavy snow weighed my boots down, and scream with exhilaration. I had always loved the snow. My friends, Tommy and Betty and whoever would be waiting for me, and we would spend the whole day out in the cold white clean snow, playing childish games and laughing. We would scoop handfuls of snow and shove them in our mouths, pretending it was ice cream. I chuckled again. It felt so long ago. But it really wasn’t, was it? I scooped up a handful of bloodstained snow, and raised it to my chapped lips. It tasted metallic, unlike my memories.

I couldn’t remember if a person was supposed to remove the knife after they’d been stabbed. Maybe I had read somewhere that it caused you to bleed out faster. Not that it mattered anymore. More and more snow around me was turning that ugly reddish hue. The knife was stuck in between two of my ribs, buried all the way to the hilt. It was long and I could tell it was deep in my body. The handle was ornate carved wood. It was a pretty knife. Too bad there was blood all over it. No, I would leave the knife, until someone found my body and then they would know that this pretty knife had caused my injuries. Then I would tell them, then they would know how…

My next breath caught in my throat. It took me seconds to fully breathe in. I was so tired, and so cold, but not a shivery cold, a deeper cold. Maybe I didn’t have to even go to the trees. Maybe someone would find me here. The sun was white hot in the sky, a contrast to the frigidity all around me. It warmed my face. I closed my heavy eyes and soaked it in. Everything faded away but the sun on my face.

Until it didn’t. Until a shadow fell upon me and blocked out the pleasant warmth and made me feel all of the bitter cold again, I squinted my eyes open to see what had interrupted my rest. It was a man. He seemed taller than any man I had ever seen before, and he towered over me. He had a long messy beard, and his face was caked in dirt. His clothes were shabby, but even so I felt like this hulking man was important. His large eyes were coal black and seemed to have a fire burning beneath them.

“Who are you?” I said to him. He did not answer or react at all to my question. I felt more aware, now that he was there. I barely noticed more blood drenching my coat. Something about this man seemed vaguely familiar.

“Have we met before?”

“No, we have not.” His voice was powerful and deep. It seemed to rumble across the icy valley. There was silence between us for a moment. Then he said to me, “What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?”

“I’m dying.”

I looked into his coal-fire eyes. It was true, I knew it. The world was a dull buzz around me. The red bloomed from my chest and all around me. I took one more glance at the trees. They were out of my reach. My gaze slowly returned to the man before me.

He heaved a great sigh. His dark eyes seemed to be tinged with sadness. I wheezed in the cool air.

“I’m sorry.”

Then the great big man quickly reached down and grabbed my boot. His giant hand wrapped around my ankle. My head scraped against the snow as he began to drag me back, back away from the trees. A horror spread through my stomach. I tried to scream and kick, but I couldn’t make a sound or movement. The cold in me grew deeper. I looked up at the bearded man with fearful eyes. He looked down at me with pity.

“It was an honorable death. I promise.”

The man dragged me faster and faster. The sun broke through the clouds and hit my face with exceptional warmth.

I closed my eyes.