Everlasting Snow: Chapter 2

You slowly open your eyes as sleep leaves you. Reluctant to get out of bed, you roll over, face your window, and draw your blankets closer around you.

That’s when you realize that it snowed yesterday.

Probably all night, too.

You immediately sit up and look out the window. Snow has completely covered the earth, covering the ground in a pearly white blanket, nesting on the tops of houses and cars.

You see the neighborhood kids rushing out of their houses to enjoy the first snow day.

Heart racing, you wash your face, brush your teeth, get dressed—boots, scarf, light jacket and gloves in your pocket—and rush outside, completely forgetting about breakfast.

The view is absolutely gorgeous, stopping you in your tracks. Everything is blanketed in crisp whiteness, the snow fresh and untainted by footsteps. You smile to yourself and run further outside, loving the musical crunch of the snow beneath your boots.

You soon come upon the kids, who have gotten themselves into a pretty intense snowball fight. You’ve always loved playing with them—you love kids and they love you back. You form a snowball, but then decide that you’d rather enjoy the snow for a while before joining in their games.

“Time out, time out! Hey ________!” a brown-haired boy calls, dodging a rogue snowball. “We need some help! C’mon!”

“Maybe a little later, Jamie!” You yell back. You hear a soft “awww, all right” and the laughter resume as you turn around, smiling to yourself.

Then, from out of nowhere, you feel a cold impact on the back of your head.

At first, you’re just a little annoyed. You don’t exactly appreciate the snow running into your shirt and down your back. But then you begin to chuckle. Which turns into laughter. You forget all about your walk through the snow. You’re up for having some fun.

You turn around, smiling wide. “All right, who threw that?” you playfully question the kids. They all shrug and point fingers at one another.

“All right, IT’S ON!” you yell as you run after them, snowball in hand. They scream, smiling, and start running from you, the two opposing snowball fight teams joining in one to defend against you.

All of you run everywhere, laughing and having the time of your life, firing, dodging, and getting hit by snowballs left and right. You can’t quite say who threw some of the snowballs, but you disregard that, as well as a few bursts of laughter that come from a voice not belonging to any of the kids.

After a while, you “lose,” the kids dog-piling on top of you and claiming victory. You stay and play for who knows how long, making snowmen—complete with carrot noses and tophats—and igloos and sledding and whatnot. It was a snow day for the history books.

Time really does fly when you’re having fun. Before what seems like long, the sun begins to set, and the children are called back into their houses by their mothers for dinner and hot cocoa. You wave goodbye and head back up the hill to your house, smiling all the way.

Not feeling like going inside quite yet, you decide to have a bit more fun in the snow in your own backyard. You lay down on the snow, looking up to the clouds above, from which new snowflakes are falling. You close your eyes and make a snow angel, but don’t get up just yet, letting the flakes fall on your face…your favorite feeling.

A small cold bites the tip of your nose as one of them lands square on it.

Your stomach growls and you realize that you haven’t eaten all day. Deciding that it’s about time for some food and more of the fire’s story, you get up, momentarily admiring your perfect snow angel. You turn around and begin to walk back to your house.

“Aww, going so soon?” you hear someone say behind you.

You whip around to nothing but your snow angel. You shrug and continue your trek inside, hunger really eating away at your stomach now.

“All right,” the same voice came again, but sadder. “See you later!” A sudden gust of wind followed immediately after.

You turn around again to emptiness, with the exception of a small flurry of snow that was settling back down to the ground. You looked up to the sky to see nothing but falling snowflakes. Utterly confused, you head inside and lock the door, leaning against it for a moment. You shake your head. Nah, that was nothing. There was no one there. I’m just hungry. You walk to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat.

Little do you know that your bedroom window has become quite the art canvas.