Storm (G/T)

Crashing Without Burning

The zipper on this hoodie is killing me, it keeps snapping out of place and won't snap back in. I give up and just bunch the two sides together, trekking on. At least the deep blue sweatshirt underneath is helping with the cold also. Turning back, I see green shingles fly off the roof. Give it an hour, the roof will tear off. What you soon realize about subzero temperatures is that as the temperature freezes, your body does too. Not in the sense that it's too cold for you to want to move. Yeah, that's another side effect of the cold, but when you do try to move, you realize your movements are stilted and laggy, like you're in slow motion.

I'll call this day one of my adventure. I'm not really sure where I'm going, or how long it'll take, but I'll go somewhere. Anywhere at all. I don't have a better coat than this hoodie, but I could really use one. There hasn't been a stop yet that works well for me. I'm not going to enter another person's house, I'd rather die of cold than go somewhere with people I don't know and trust - people who will turn their backs on me. Besides, I was doing fine by supporting myself, so I should keep going with that. Thankfully, the cold is curving my appetite, so I can save rations for the absolute worst.

Maybe I went a wrong direction. There wasn't necessarily a right one, but I'm moving away from civilization at this point. I haven't seen a house for a while, not that I can really see anything. The snow is thick as a fog out here. Whatever, it's fine. There are gaps between people all the time. I just need to find a rest stop or an inn or something. At least before nightfall. I quickly pick up the pace.

Sirens blare in the distance, indicating a firetruck or some police. God, I hope not police. I wouldn't be caught dead carrying a heavy load while running in a place where I'm covered. I'd be interrogated immediately. Looking left, in the direction of the noise, I can barely make out red and blue spots of light through the thick snowfall. With that, I turn right.

The snow keeps getting taller and taller as I move on. I'm aware the snowstorm is intense, but mountains of snow reach a good foot above me in some places, and stand no shorter than at my knees. I feel my leggings soaking up the melting snow, my little remaining warmth being sucked into the frost.

I climb up onto a hill of what I thought was packed snow, only to fall through the top layer and through the snow until I hit the ground. The top of the hill is above my head, forcing me to climb up the fluffy snow until I finally reach the top and roll down, breathing heavily.

I'm not even wearing gloves, my hands are starting to get real bad frostbite, almost turning blue. They feel stiff and waxy, even within my pockets. I ignore the pain as much as I can, continuing to move on. Hours pass, and the sun sets. Eventually, I give in and collapse into the snow, immediately falling asleep. Or going unconscious. Whatever.

The rising sun glimmers over the endless snow, causing it to illuminate me and shine in my eyes. I wake up with some of the thick snow caked on me. Brushing it off, I continue on, hoping my now wet backpack isn't damaged.  It's like the clumps of falling snow are getting thicker and bigger as time goes on, unless I'm imagining it. Hopefully I can find a rest stop soon, it's almost impossible to see through the snow now and I've lost feeling in most of my body. Hypothermia is surely setting in.

I spot some evergreens in the distance, and head toward them. They don't seem to be getting closer, but it's likely because they're much taller than expected. Much, much taller. Can you breed two trees together? If so, these must be some weird mix between pine trees and giant sycamores, but even taller somehow. A tall metal fence surrounds the trees, rusted with age but standing strong as ever. Whoever put that there doesn't want a soul in that forest, huh?

They're fascinating to look at- well, from what I can see. I can't see the tops for the life of me, they're far too high and whenever I look up, my eyes are met with snow. The snow remains at a taller height now, but the grass is starting to peek out. Must be uninhabited, grass usually doesn't reach up to my neck.  My walk slows to a trudge, which slows to a crawl, then to a lay. I stay in this position for a minute before using the last of my energy to get up.

Notice it was the last of my energy. I look once more at my hands, a deep purple from frostbite. I hope to god there's a cure for this, I don't want to risk amputation. My mind is spinning, maybe even freezing up too with the rest of me. My rationale is out of balance, as are my legs. I stumble over massive branches and black ice... or, white ice, as everything is white at this point. I must look confused and drunken with my walking patterns. Not that there are any people in sight.

I fall back down once more, taking another periodic break. At this rate, I won't get anywhere anytime soon. I have to stop being a pansy through all of this and keep moving forward if I want to survive. Shoving my body up and regaining what little composure remains, I march forward as though I'm not in pain. No troubles, no numbness, no worries. Just a goal and a destination. 

I'm moving at a faster pace than I have in the past 12 hours, and my confidence gives me motivation. This motivation doesn't last long though, not cutting off due to a decrease in said confidence, but because of a sudden end to my energy. My fuel tank has hit empty. My gaze shifts to black, and the last thing I feel is my torso hitting the snowbanks.