It was an average day in the town of Holton, school was 15 minutes from being out and the class was rushing to finish all their work, well some of the class was, there are always some people who do nothing at all. Tick, tick, tick, tick the seconds tick away on the clock. It always seems like forever on a Friday. Everyone is excited to go out and “party” which normally consists of being drunk and sexual with each other around a campfire. What. A. Life. God, I feel awful about missing out. Down to five minutes. We hear “Pack up please children, but don’t get too loud.” Poor Mrs. Grimmings, she doesn’t know what she just started. The class erupts into a hurricane and the students turn into zoo animals. Everything feels like bitter noise the distinct “bing” of the bell chimes and the animals get pushed out of the herd.
I make my way down the stairs, taking my time nearly getting knocked over by a group of waddling penguins. Soon I meet up with the only person who’s time I enjoy, my dearest friend Rory, her hair is so short you can barely run your hands through it, but it suits her. Her face is slim and angled, the only way to describe it is by looking at a painting by one of her favorite artists. She looks like she was painted in to my miserable life. Rory is the yin to my yang, she is perfect to me. Even if she doesn’t think very highly of herself.
“I have to stay after for my painting lessons today, but I’ll call you when i get home, okay?”
Darn, I forgot all about her painting lessons, I guess I’m stuck walking home alone today then. She has them every second week, I feel dumb for forgetting.
As I walk out of the school doors I groan in annoyance. The first snowfall of the year had to come today when I decided to walk home. Even though all the rivers are partially frozen and theres always frost on the ground the snow will be falling on me and turning into cold droplets of water. Having already missed the buses I have no choice but to embark on my adventure. I make my way out of the school parking lot and begin down the shortcut trail Rory and I take every Friday.
The snow gently falls tickling my hair, sliding against my skin like silk. The air is cold and bitter but still holds the sweetness of fall. The trails that use to be full of life all summer are now dying as the trees become naked and sad. Something in my heart aches for them in a way. So cold and bare as the snow falls around them, yet so beautiful in a way. I figured if I wandered off the track a little i’d be okay. Everything just looks like a fragile image from a snow globe.
Slowly I make my way through the forest, crunching the half frozen sticks beneath my feet. The woods are not completely dead, the soft chirps of birds are still slight in the air and squirrels travel searching for nuts, bunnies hop gracefully, showing off their beauty. Soon I recognize nothing and I know I’ve wandered way too far. I can hear the soft current of running water and make my way towards it. I began to panic, not recognizing my surroundings my heart pace quickened, before I knew it I began hyperventilating.
I sank to my knees in the cold snow, a thin blanket to the barren earth. I shook, cold to the bone. Nothing looked beautiful anymore, It was a distorted nightmare, the ground shivered beneath me and then crumbled. I grabbed for a stick, a twig, a vine anything, I couldn’t fall. I just couldn’t. The water invoked me and a scream was gurgled from my lungs. The cold was needles in my skin, millions and millions of tiny needles crawling against my skin choking me, holding me down. They want me as their victim, their medication. My vision blurs to red and everything aches more than ever as I tumble through the current.
This is it, this is where I will die. Everything in my life has been meaningless, I’ve never done anything worth being remembered. Now I wake up, I want to wake up now. I want this to be some sick twisted dream but it isn’t. I’m not going to wake up. I want to fight but I have nothing left in me. Slowly my body gives up and everything is meaningless.
I make my way down the stairs, taking my time nearly getting knocked over by a group of waddling penguins. Soon I meet up with the only person who’s time I enjoy, my dearest friend Rory, her hair is so short you can barely run your hands through it, but it suits her. Her face is slim and angled, the only way to describe it is by looking at a painting by one of her favorite artists. She looks like she was painted in to my miserable life. Rory is the yin to my yang, she is perfect to me. Even if she doesn’t think very highly of herself.
“I have to stay after for my painting lessons today, but I’ll call you when i get home, okay?”
Darn, I forgot all about her painting lessons, I guess I’m stuck walking home alone today then. She has them every second week, I feel dumb for forgetting.
“Yeah, sure. Call me when you get back and show me your great masterpiece.” I wink at her then begin my solo journey home.
“This one will be fantastic!” She yells at my back, far too exuberant.
As I walk out of the school doors I groan in annoyance. The first snowfall of the year had to come today when I decided to walk home. Even though all the rivers are partially frozen and theres always frost on the ground the snow will be falling on me and turning into cold droplets of water. Having already missed the buses I have no choice but to embark on my adventure. I make my way out of the school parking lot and begin down the shortcut trail Rory and I take every Friday.
The snow gently falls tickling my hair, sliding against my skin like silk. The air is cold and bitter but still holds the sweetness of fall. The trails that use to be full of life all summer are now dying as the trees become naked and sad. Something in my heart aches for them in a way. So cold and bare as the snow falls around them, yet so beautiful in a way. I figured if I wandered off the track a little i’d be okay. Everything just looks like a fragile image from a snow globe.
Slowly I make my way through the forest, crunching the half frozen sticks beneath my feet. The woods are not completely dead, the soft chirps of birds are still slight in the air and squirrels travel searching for nuts, bunnies hop gracefully, showing off their beauty. Soon I recognize nothing and I know I’ve wandered way too far. I can hear the soft current of running water and make my way towards it. I began to panic, not recognizing my surroundings my heart pace quickened, before I knew it I began hyperventilating.
I sank to my knees in the cold snow, a thin blanket to the barren earth. I shook, cold to the bone. Nothing looked beautiful anymore, It was a distorted nightmare, the ground shivered beneath me and then crumbled. I grabbed for a stick, a twig, a vine anything, I couldn’t fall. I just couldn’t. The water invoked me and a scream was gurgled from my lungs. The cold was needles in my skin, millions and millions of tiny needles crawling against my skin choking me, holding me down. They want me as their victim, their medication. My vision blurs to red and everything aches more than ever as I tumble through the current.
This is it, this is where I will die. Everything in my life has been meaningless, I’ve never done anything worth being remembered. Now I wake up, I want to wake up now. I want this to be some sick twisted dream but it isn’t. I’m not going to wake up. I want to fight but I have nothing left in me. Slowly my body gives up and everything is meaningless.
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