Frozen Fears

Gazing out at the snow, Cory marvelled at its perfection, not an imprint to be seen, like a million marshmallows melted over his land. The snow had fallen throughout the night and was still coming down. Such an incredible view, coupled with the morning coffee aroma, stirred a feeling of contentment deep within Cory. His only regret was that he couldn't go out and experience it. He remembered all those years ago living in New York state, and the fun he'd had in the snow, sledging, snowball fights, long walks with the dogs. In those days, snowfall was guaranteed. Here in the English countryside, it was a rarity. Some winters produced a dusting, like talcum powder, the blades of grass poking through determined to be seen. In other years the snow didn't materialise. 

Cory sipped his coffee and thought to venture upstairs and look at the scenery through his binoculars. At times like this, agoraphobia became a real hindrance. He had adjusted his life around the illness, and given that he was a best-selling author, it didn't affect him as much as it might have done. Apart from his agent and the doctor, he had cut himself off from humanity, not only because he felt like a freak, but Cory didn't relish the need to explain why he never went out. He paid his gardener via the internet and cleaned the house himself. He had no idea why he feared open space. It had arisen from panic attacks that had struck without apparent reason. Following a series of medical tests and counselling and cognitive behaviour therapy, the doctor concluded that he suffered a neurotransmitter imbalance. Over the years, Cory had taken Fluoxetine and Sertraline. Citalopram was the current choice, although nothing seemed to help. Still, he took his tablet each morning, like a good boy, or instead, he thought, like a ridiculous old man. How, he wondered, had he reached the age of sixty only to rattle around on his own in this massive old house with all its fancy grounds? 

Yet, each day Cory counted his blessings. Apart from the mental disturbance, he was in good health. As well as talking to himself, Cory passed the time by writing and reading. He practised yoga and meditation for at least an hour each day, and on an occasional evening, Cory would bash out a tune or two on his old guitar. Yes, he admitted that he was lonely. There was no point in denying it, but hey, you can't have everything, right?

Cory finished his coffee and climbed the stairs in search of his binoculars. He thought he would start at the back of the house and look out onto the lake. Not that it was so far away, but his eyesight wasn't what it once had been, and he wanted to check the gardener had filled the bird feeders. 

                                  ~ ~ ~

Georgina had reached the end of her tether. She trudged through the snow and felt something crack underfoot. Georgina kicked the snow away and saw she had stepped onto a sheet of ice. She looked out, noticed the ridge, and realized she was at the edge of a lake. Georgina thought it to be an omen. Yes, it was right here waiting for her, so she should do it now. Misery had turned into despair, and Georgina wanted to be done with it all. She saw no way out of her wretched existence except to end her life.

Suicide had been on her mind for a while, but she hadn't been able to figure out how to do it without a considerable inconvenience. She had never been able to understand people who jumped under trains only to bring about a massive problem for hundreds of people who needed to get to someplace. Whether she took an overdose, slit her wrists, or whatever, it would most likely traumatize the poor soul who would discover her. Yet here, out in the middle of nowhere, she would probably not be found. She could fall through the ice into the lake, and nobody would ever know. At least that was what she thought.  

Nobody seemed to notice Georgina's depression, thank God. She thought her reasons would seem inane to any balanced person, and she didn't want to reveal her darkest thoughts. She worked as a carer for the elderly. Her days comprised of dealing with other peoples' body waste. She hoisted folk from their beds and into armchairs where the majority sat all day staring at a television that they could no longer understand. Georgina thought that now she had reached the age of fifty-two, it wouldn't be too long before the same befell her and was damned if she would allow it to happen. 

Twelve years previously, she lived a great life. She ran a bar with her Sri Lankan husband in his home country until the night when a pulmonary embolism killed him. Georgina had walked away from the bar and her tropical life. Within a week, she was back in England, jobless and sleeping on a friend's sofa. Now, standing beside the frozen lake, Georgina recalled watching the clock and how it had given her comfort as the seconds passed by. Each second was one closer to her own death. She wondered how many more damned seconds were left, on they went, one after the other, tick-tock, tick-bloody-tock. 

To hell with it, she thought. Georgina decided she would do it. Step out onto the lake and plunge through, never to be seen again. 

                                ~ ~ ~

Cory stood at his bedroom window in awe of the vista that greeted him. He picked up his binoculars to get a good view of the area surrounding the lake. Cory was taken by surprise when he saw Georgina. 

"What in the world?" he said.

He removed the binoculars as though it would reverse what he had seen. He looked through them again and half expected to see the woman had disappeared. No, she was still there, motionless. He wondered who she was and how she came to be there. Cory thought she was beautiful. His binoculars afforded him a good close up. He was put in mind of an Egyptian goddess, and she portrayed a definite melancholic air. He experienced an urge to go out and wrap her in a blanket. Carry her into the house to protect her from the biting cold. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind; he chided himself. 

"Silly old fool," he said, "how do you suppose she would want to be abducted?"

He decided to ignore her. She was probably taking a walk and had wandered onto his land in error. An easy mistake to make in the countryside in the snow. He put down his binoculars and went back to the kitchen for a coffee refill. 

                               ~ ~ ~

With her mind made up, Georgina lit the final cigarette of her life. She thought about the times she had tried to quit the habit for the good of her health. Lately, she had been smoking at every opportunity and hoped to drop dead from a heart attack. It didn't matter now. In a couple of minutes, she would walk out onto the lake and go under. She wondered whether she would drown or if the cold would kill her. She hoped for the cold. It had to be the better option. Yes, she knew exactly how to do it. She would take off her clothes and become as cold as possible before walking onto the lake. That way, she would die from hypothermia rather than drown. She threw her cigarette into the snow and removed her coat. 

                               ~ ~ ~

Cory stood in the kitchen drinking his coffee. He pondered on the woman and how he had wanted to go out and bring her in. It would have made sense to wish her to walk towards the house, but to go outside and fetch her was absurd. Such an idea would give rise to panic under normal circumstances, yet he hadn't suffered emotional discomfort. He wondered whether she would still be there. No, she would have moved on by now, to continue her walk. Then again, why was she standing there like that, staring at the lake? Would she still be there, or not? Only one way to find out. Cory went back upstairs. He retrieved his binoculars. Yep, there she was, and Cory wasn't sure whether to be glad or sorry. At that moment, Cory began to think he might be obliged to go outside.

The panic arose. It gripped at Cory's throat, tore into his stomach, causing his guts to churn like a cement mixer. 

"Goddamnit man, this isn't about you," he said. 

Cory was aware that to give in to his fear would be utterly selfish. He recalled his yoga and meditation practice and managed to quash his anxiety before it debilitated him. He watched as Georgina dropped her coat onto the snow. Perhaps it was the author in him, or maybe pure instinct. Either way, Cory knew beyond doubt what she was about to do and that only he could save her. He grabbed the blanket from his bed and raced down the stairs. Cory threw open the back door. He hesitated for a second, the sweat glistened on his brow, and then for the first time in so many long years, he stepped outside onto the icy patio.