The Day the Ice Broke

I look out my window, watching the snowflakes fall silently to the ground they’ve been falling on every day for the past three years. I watch as a truck slows down next to a neighbor’s house, parks, and out comes a woman carrying a bag of food for her friend, my neighbor. This happens to at least four houses every day. There has been a food shortage ever since this cold started. 

I watch as the same woman, after bringing the food into the house, brings in some bottles with warm water. 

I watch little kids playing ball in their favorite spot; one of them falls, and starts to yell as his mother rushes out to help him. I watch her lips say to her husband, “He slipped on the ice again!” They carry the child inside, his friends left outside waiting for him in the cold. 

I watch as a girl, some years younger than me, sits on a bench all by herself, shivering from the bitter cold, her coat and hat covered in soft snow. 

I sigh, remembering like I do every day, that it’s all my fault. 

My eyes get wet, like they do everyday when I remember that I can’t fix it. 

❃

It all started three years ago, when I was 13 years old. Me and my best friend had gotten into a fight for some silly reason, and I was really mad at her. I had stayed inside my house as often as I could just to avoid seeing her. 

I regret it now. 

I kept hiding as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. I was starting to get fed up with my own family; I was beginning to just be mad at the world, not realizing how angry I was. 

I was angry, upset, annoyed, and it wasn’t even about my friend at this point. That’s just who I’d become. Like a dead tree, fallen over, laying in the dark depths of the forest; I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I talked to no one; just occasionally my mom when she would bring me a meal or ask me something. 

I was just mad, not even knowing why at this point. 

All my feelings boiled inside me, like bitter soup in a rusty old pot that had been on the fire too long. 

Then one day, it happened. 

I was sitting on the floor in my room, back propped up against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest. 

And then, like a waterfall, the tears came. They flooded out of my eyes at a rate I thought was genuinely impossible. I cried and cried, my tears running down my arms and legs, then touching the floor. 

I had been sitting next to the beautiful potted plant I held in my room, and I watched as a tear fell on one of its leaves. The leaf, to my horror, immediately froze. I reached to touch it, and when I did, it fell off, into the soil around the plant; the soil froze, right before a flood of ice traveled up the entire plant, freezing it completely. 

I remember I got up, went to look out the window, and it was snowing. 

In a warm, southern town. 

In the middle of summer. 

I watched as a sheet of ice spread over the entire neighborhood, and on outwards to cover the rest of the town. Several people fell, others started shivering and huddling close together to stay warm. 

Others huddled together not to slip and fall on the ice. 

Not to slip and fall on my ice. 

I knew in that moment, watching the faces of all the confused and scared people, and the sad faces of little boys and girls, as they dropped their ice cream cones and beach balls, that I did this. 

I knew in the next moment, the tears starting up again, that things wouldn’t - couldn’t - change.

Because of me. I couldn’t change this. I could never fix it. 

And that broke me. 

❃

From then till now, everything I touched turned to ice. Every time I felt an emotion like regret, sadness, fear, hate, or anger - it got colder. I got colder. 

No matter how many coats or sweaters or gloves I wore - I couldn’t stop the cold that consumed me emotionally, yet somehow didn’t destroy me physically. 

I felt weak, helpless. I couldn’t talk to anyone, risk freezing them with my breath. I hid inside for a new reason now: to keep others safe. 

I was afraid that if I went outside, things would just get worse. I had never actually tried going outside since all of this; even if it wouldn’t make the cold and weather worse, it would not be very pleasant… Most people by now had figured it was me; either they’d heard the story from others, or they’d been there that day when the town froze over, and had seen the ice come from my door, the snow cloud form over my roof. They all think I’m a witch or something. 

Now, looking out the window at this huge mess I’d created, all the sadness, trouble, confusion and fear I’d caused for all of these people who had been there for me throughout my entire childhood… Even my own mother had left this frozen town once she realized it was me…

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t it have just been happier? All these years, me and my town have been frozen solid; through all the fear, all the isolation, and I have done nothing about it. By now, even my own house was frozen… along with everything inside it… and I couldn’t do anything about it. 

This thought hurt me so much. I realized just how much time, how much of my life I’d wasted, hiding like a fool, and now this was my situation; and I could not fix it. 

All alone, all frozen…

I felt overwhelmed with my emotions...held inside for so long… 

It was then that I looked outside and saw the storm I’d created. The chaos. People flying in the air along with shingles from their roofs. The snow swirling didn’t even let me see all of it. Just imagine the destruction, I thought. 

Though I was afraid what would happen if I did, I knew I had to go outside. I had to help those people. This was all my fault, and I had to fix it. 

But I couldn’t move. 

I looked down at my feet. 

Ice was traveling up my legs, attaching me to the floor I’d blankly roamed for all these years. The ice moved quickly; without mercy for the one who’d created it. 

It was just reaching my shoulders as memories flooded my mind.

Warm, happy memories of my family, my friends... all the moments in time that had been closed off by icey doors in my mind for so long, came back and warmed my mind. Warmed my heart. 

The ice had reached my neck. Though my body was throbbing with the frostbite and bitter cold, my soul was at peace and that warm feeling growing inside of me was greater than my cold, physical pain. 

Things could have been so nice, because I truly was so lucky. If I just hadn’t hid for so long…hadn’t let my young emotions consume me…

I thought of all the good times. All the joy. The peace. The hope. 

The love.

Just brief moments before the ice froze my bottom lip, I uttered… “Thank you.” 

To no one in particular. 

These words were my first since my mother had left me three years ago…

And my last before my own awful creation consumed me. 

❃

But, with that last breath of thanks, everything froze in its place. 

The ice stopped spreading.

The snow stopped whipping up against my window.

The wind stopped howling, and the people ceased screaming. 

Everything was still…

Crack!

The ice fell off of me. It set me free. 

And for the first time, I was sure I knew how to stop it. 

And I was positive I could. 

I moved towards the door, no longer cold, but warm. Glowing from the inside with a new feeling. One I had not felt in much too long. 

I unlocked the multiple locks on the dark door…

I turned the frozen handle…

And opened it. 

The crowd of people stood, terrified, shocked, confused, staring at me. 

I was staring at the ice on the ground. I pushed back my negative thoughts of doubt, worry, and fear to the back of my mind.

Getting ready to step out for the first time in years, I thought of all my quiet, dark, cold years of hiding, alone. 

But in that moment, I felt sure. 

I took a deep breath, and I stepped. 

The ice vanished. 

The snow disappeared. 

The people smiled. 

My friend who I’d argued with all those years ago came running my way.

As she embraced me in a loving hug, I hugged her back. Instead of freezing solid like I’d thought we would, we radiated with a warm glow of positive energy. 

It was literally visible.

We were like the sun.

The crowd erupted, and for the first time in a hard three years, I felt safe, I felt at home, and I felt more loved than I myself loved this moment of pure joy. 

                                                        ❃❃❃ THE END ❃❃❃