Teardrop

Chapter three

Past
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It was the night before the biggest snow storm in town, that devastated the small town that she had lived in with her mum, it was the time that she had cried from a broken heart from a boy she had loved so much that didn't love her back.
Sarah was 15. After spending a sad summer of watching the beautiful boy walk through and go through with his daily life she had ran up to him one day, and breathed out how much she loved him.

She supposed it was silly. It was really, but she couldn't stop it as she looked into the Ernest green eyes full of secrets that drew her in and left her wanting more with the mysterious boy that had always caught her attention.

She remembered her heart pounding the feeling of hope that he would love her back.
It was a false hope and Sarah regretted that she ever loved the boy.
She remembered watching him sail through dusk till the sun pinkness  the sky.
It had seemed like a dream the endless months of waiting for him, the desire that made her
want to run after him, a dream that now she could barely remember. Then it had been the only thing holding her together like two pieces of bread holding a sad witch together before it crumbled to nothing. The tine when her mum had been sick and battled to live through the hard times in the long endless winters that so poorly caught hold of the small mountain town hight up in the Hilton mountains, the town was very far from civilisation and it was hard to get up to the town especially with the many winters that had the town hungry and weak from lack of supply trucks being able to get up the steel slippery dark roads that crossed through the ranging snowstorm.  The snow storm had been brewing for many days, holding its breath, until it would explode and then unleash its winters breath on the small weak poor town.

The snow grew heavier in the night burrowing the wood house even further, only the steps of the glass panes peeked out, the glass panes icy with ice that grew up on the windows and threatened to freeze them all. Sarah was sure archeologist would find a family of two hundreds of years after buried in the poor wood house, preserved as human Icles.

She shuddered. Better not to think about it.
Sarah hurried her head in her pillow and tried to conserve some heat.
Her body was weak and frail and her back bones showed from her thin pale skin.
She wore as much warm clothes as she owned, a thick wooly jumper, five pairs of pants, fleece heat conserving underwear, and the thickest socks she could find. And yet even with her face barely able to see peeking out from the blanket that her mum had taught her to knit her nose red from the cold, she could still feel the icy bite of the cold through her warm winter clothes.
She hugged into herself, her lips blue, shivering, and biting her lips in the attempt to keep her awake and still alive.

She could hear the hacking cough of her mum in the small room next door.
Sarah supposed she should go check on her, but she couldn't bring herself to get out of her bed, and snuggled even tighter, wrapping her thin at,s around her breasts, like a newborn baby sucking her mum for life. Sarah had closed her eyes, and willed herself still to live. She knew she had to help her mum, she knew she had to get out of bed, but it was so cold, and she didn't think she was strong agnough to support her mum.

But then she couldn't just let her die.
The thought of her mother dying willed Sarah to throw the blankets off her and tumble ungrateful one the wooden floorboards with a huge" BANG". That rocked her room, and made her ornaments clatter around on her oak dressing table that was against the dark wood panelled wall,  
a ornament fell off and shattered loudly, ( a ornament of a mermaid with pretty willowy features a green tale and beautiful long wavy red hair she seemed to be  singing on a grey rock brushing her hair with a purple comb). Sarah remembered laughing, people always thought that mermaids sat on rocks all day and sang combing there hair, but Sarah though that the beautiful willowy mermaid had better things to do all day, than sit there looking pretty for the many awed sailers.