A dream of spring in an endless winter

She woke up from a dreamless sleep naked in the snow. The blizzard whipped every part of her skin, but she was neither cold nor hurt. She felt like just some moments ago she had gone to sleep at the end of a summer day, but she didn't feel any confusion. She had been exhausted in her bed and was instantly transported in this condition, but she was not tired. Instead she felt more energetic and alive than ever, like she would never need to rest again, like she could endure weather infernally worst, like she had the strength to carry the weight of the whole world on her back. She wasn't a victim of the storm, she was what brought the storm. She wasn't alone in nature, she was the nature.

The snow covered her up to her thighs, but she effortlessly moved her legs through it, gliding herself to a place she knew instinctively she had to go, except she didn't know what that place was and why she was convinced she had to be there.

She was surrounded by the brightest white she has ever seen. She could distinguish no horizon, no clouds and no shape in the snow, but she stepped with the confidence that in this nothingness she could create a whole world.

She didn't know how long it passed, as nothing had changed around her or about her, but for the first time since she woke up, she felt a slight unease. It was fear and it slowed her down and made her feel the chilly wind pinching, though still mildly. It was not fear of the unknown she found herself in, nor of losing her powers and freezing to death, but fear that this situation wasn't normal, that she should have been terrified, confused and disturbed when she had woken up. She sensed that it was wrong to feel nothing but joy, but she didn't understand why she could be having such thoughts. Then she began to ask questions and that's when she started to shiver. She didn't care why she was in this situation, but she desperately wanted to know who she was, what she had been doing the day before she went to sleep for the last time, or the day before that, or any other day of her life. She wasn't tortured that she knew nothing of her past, but that she couldn't understand why she wanted to know about herself. Why couldn't she remain in that heavenly state for eternity? Why did it feel like she was encumbered by her very mind?

The snowflakes entered her eyes and she couldn't keep them open properly anymore. She had to stop to huddle in order to warm herself. She was still chilled, but felt comfortable enough in this static position to wish to remain like this forever. But she was becoming colder and colder and she understood that she would soon freeze to death if she didn't do something. She urged to move again and was shocked to realize how feeble she was. Her feet hurt like they were bleeding severely and she could barely crawl them through the snow. But worse was that she no longer knew in which direction to go. She lost the path that some moments ago had been part of her instincts. She was afraid not only that she would die, but also that she didn't understand what was happening to her. How and why did she end up in this situation? Why did she become weaker as time went on? What must she do to regain that divine feeling she had just after she had woken up? Why did she seem to understand nothing, except pain and fear?

The blizzard coldly whipped her eyes, but the anguish to keep them open proved to be worth it, as she could distinguish the shape of some buildings in the white hell she was in. They didn't seem far, but she felt she needed superhuman strength to get there. Her feet were numb and she could no longer feel them moving, but she saw she was getting closer. A whole city was shaping before her and the burning white that had been surrounding her began to dim, until it turned to the dark of night, to make way for the city lights to shine.

She was in a plaza surrounded by people, but no one noticed her. The ones in a group of friends were laughing, the lovers were kissing, the parents and their children were hugging. The joy on their face as she was agonizingly dying in front of them was hurting more than the weather itself. She moved frantically to draw any attention, but it was to no avail. She screamed as hard as she could, but it only further depleted her of power.

If this was the place where she was convinced she must go, then she had made a grave mistake. She felt more lost than ever and she would have preferred anytime to be confused like she had been before, when everything around her was white darkness. Now it felt like she had every sign to know what was happening, but it seemed they would only make her lose her mind.

She startled at a wild thought that came from nowhere. What if this was all a dream? A dream, another concept which she didn't understand, but which felt like an unhoped liberation. But no, she didn't know much about herself, but she was sure that she had had nights in which she was aware that she was dreaming. And this felt nothing like those times. She didn't know exactly why, but she was sure there was no salvation.

She no longer had strength to shiver and her whole body became numb and could no longer move, but her head was still desperately turning towards anything, like she craved to see anything or anyone that would come to save her, but all she got was a more clear view of the place she was sure she would die in.

A man passed in front of her, not looking at her, like everyone else, but she felt something different about him.

"Jacob!" She shouted at him like she was convinced he would respond, though she didn't know who he was or why he was important to her. He disappeared from her sight, but before that she had felt a ray of warmth, which did nothing but thaw her frozen skin and make her feel the cold again.

The snowflakes felt like bullets, the wind like demon swords. She began to cry and the tears immediately turned to ice to blind her eyes. She didn't know if her blood froze and petrified her body or if her limbs were severed, but it made no difference. With a strength she didn't know she had, she strove to scream. She wasn't sure if she succeeded or not, but she woke up.

She clenched her warm and soft blanket the same way she embraced it when she was a child and used it to protect herself from the monsters of the night. Afraid to sleep again, she rose and went out of her room. She glimpsed at the window and saw with horror that it was a wintery night outside. Not only this, but her house seemed to be in the middle of the plaza she had been moments ago. She looked down at herself, saw that she was naked and immediately felt the unforgiving cold paralyzing her like a tomb. She looked again at the window, but her home disappeared. She was forced to live again all the moments before her scream with the same pain and confusion, then she woke up again. This time the blanket was slightly less soft and less warm. She then got up one more time, was again alone in the plaza and then again in her bed.

Every time she woke up the blanket felt heavier and colder, like it was turning to ice. She didn't know why she struggled so much to get out of bed if she knew the outcome would be the same, but it was an instinctual, foolish hope that determined her to keep on trying. She struggled more and more to get out of bed and had to fight the ice sheet that covered her, bruising herself and carrying the wounds every time she found herself back under it. She may have already lost her mind. It was impossible to tell, as there was no use of her mind anymore. She only acted on instincts and the force that controlled her gave her no chance to think.

Then one time the ice over her bed was so hard, it was impossible to get out. She remained trapped, feeling all the wounds as they were fresh, unable to huddle, waiting for the numbness that would mask the pain.  But the numbness never came and the increasing weight of what had once been her blanket pressed down on every part of her body. And somehow she still felt the blizzard whipping.

She strove to cry, but her eyes had long been frozen and broken, so she pretended that the violent snowflakes were her tears. She could no longer move her lips, but the echo of her screams perpetuated, traveling fiercely from her past only to find more ways to make her suffer. It felt like she was squeezed by the weight of the whole universe, but she was still conscious. She no longer saw white, she no longer saw black, she just saw nothing.

It was in that incessant, hellish pain when she remembered about her dreams. She remembered that she had dreamed of becoming an architect. She remembered she had dreamed of traveling in as many places as she could. She had dreamed she would fall in love and marry and build a future with her husband. She had dreamed that they would have three children, which would grow under her eyes as happy and independent adults. She had dreamed of buying a house in which she would live comfortably with her family. She had dreamed of a normal life in which every little thing that she would do, she would do with love. She had dreamed she would smile every day and make her loved ones smile with her. She remembered she had dreamed she would be near people who understood her. Then she died.