The world is lost in a whirling white blanket. Snow dances through the air, and everything it touches turns pure white. The ground sparkles and the trees glitter. It almost seems to come straight from the pages of a fairytale, that at any moment a fairy might fly through the air, or the flick of a mermaid ' s tail might be seen from beneath the ice. It makes you wonder why I can't bear to see the sight. Don't get me wrong, I used to love this time of year. I'd run around outside until my nose was bright red, trying to catch delicate snowflakes on my tongue, but now all it does is make me remember. I stare out at the white landscape before me and am thrown back ten years ago. Back to the winter that changed my life.
I shrieked with excitement when Mom told me we were going on a trip. I begged and begged her to tell me where, but she only smiled and said it was a surprise. Mom told me to go put on warm clothes, and I rushed up the stairs so fast I was surprised a trail of fire didn't follow.
Ten minutes later, we were in the car and ready to go. I was all bundled up in my winter coat and snow pants. The snow was coming down hard that day, and Mom could barely see the road. I remember exclaiming how beautiful the snow was and seeing Mom smile through the rear view mirror. I kept asking if we were there yet, and every time Mom would tell me to be patient, that we'd be there soon, but we never did get there. We were making a particularly sharp turn on the road when our tires spun out on the ice. I remember this part in snapshots. The spinning, the feeling of weightlessness as we flipped, me screaming, Mom yelling she loved me, me opening my mouth to yell back. But before I could utter a word, the world went black.
I sigh and stare out at the dancing snow. If Mom were here right now we would be laughing and drinking hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, or outside sled riding and making snowmen, but she's not. A silent tear slides down my face as I close the curtains and turn away from the window, hiding from the whirling white snow.
YOU ARE READING
White Snow
Short StoryThis is just a short story I wrote for a writing competition recently. The topic to write to was "Choose a color that you associate with a vivid memory. Then use it in your title as an adjective."
