The Snow Hill

Snow Hill stood at the top of a small snow mountain side, with a large slope that many people dreamed of sliding down on. The land was private property though, as it belonged to the Jones family. It was once a Christmas getaway home, but now, the times of jolly and merry were gone, now left with a stoic sheet sowed with a melancholy yarn.

Ben had arrived the prior day to Snow Hill, a cabin left to his brother and him after their passing. The odds of them two getting terminal cancer at the exact same time still amazed him. His luggage sat in the corner of the warm cabin, warmed by the firewood blazing behind the iron claws of the stone fireplace.

Jackson had left to pick up new sleighs he had ordered for the both of them, to relive the old times, filled with a honey nostalgia that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ben did not like the past, there had been so much pain back there, so much he did not want to go back to.

He grabbed his type writer out of the box he took with him, and began to type. Typing did wonders, it carried him away from his pain, yet it used the pain as fuel. It allowed him to see his pain, without feeling it, because he didn't want to. He thought those who wished to feel pain were fools. So he continued to type.

Memories of his first girlfriend, Audrey, flashed into his mind. The sweaty hands she had and he held were vivid. He could still smell her sweet rose perfume, and the delicate sound of her innocent giggles. The way he was reliving these memories was through the glasses of the past, glasses with rose-tinted glass. The glasses turned dark and clear, like sun reducing shades. He now saw the first time of their unison, uniting two mortal bodies in an act of 'love'. The cameras were staring at him as he knocked on her doorstep. She asked him to take away the innocence that came with her giggles, but that would take away the joy he received from them. So he declined. And she grew furious. A scorching red fury he couldn't see through the rose-tinted glasses.

He screamed, rooting himself back to reality. He looked around the empty room, with the only sound being the sizzling flames of the fireplace. Her phantom had appeared once more, this time more vivid than before. She had grown more vivid, more violent, scratching at his sanity. He needed help, but he didn't know how to ask. It had been two years since that very day, the day he lost something given to him by God or whatever people called Him these days. And so he cried, with his quiet sobs now joining the flames in a melancholy orchestra.

There was a cough and he jumped. Jackson sat in the corner, on a small chair that was once too big for him in a time that seemed so long ago. He stood, despite being the younger brother, he was taller and more toned. Jackson pointed at the sleighs, one golden and the other blue. "I'm ready when you are, big brother."

"Yeah, I'm ready too."

Jackson stood, walking towards the typewriter to see what his older brother had written. His eyes were glued to the page, processing each word carefully, and he looked at his older brother with a solemn look. "She still haunts your soul and your dreams." He ripped the page out of the type writer, and Ben flinched and tried to make a grab for it. "But this isn't how you tell the world goodbye, not with a letter."

"Then what do I do, Jackie!" He cried louder, no longer looking like the older brother, at least in his own eyes. "The humiliation, what she took from me, I'll never get it back. And the worst part is that I forgave her."

Jackson squatted to his level, "You did, but you have to forgive yourself too." His eyes were beginning to tear up too, Ben wondered why. "Dad and ma, they were always so proud of you. To have a famous novelist in the family, it took away some of the attention they gave me. And when they died, I realized how much of a grudge I had been holding. How much built up hate I had for them leaving me alone to play and talk with my guinea pigs. I still felt a strong well of resentment when I saw them get buried." Ben shook his head slowly, in disbelief. Jackson nodded. "But I decided to tell myself that it was understandable. They did spend a lot of time with me when they were dying," he chuckled, "And I do love them. So I forgived myself, I freed myself from the shackles of my own heart's prison."

"How?"

"By moving forward," he walked to the sleighs and held them, "come on, let's slide down, like old times."

Ben nodded.

They took their sleighs, Ben taking the golden one, and Jackson taking the latter. The hill, once when they were kids, looked so huge, now it seemed small, as both of them had seen more of the world. And looking back, the tracks they walked on, were small places. They sat on the sleighs, ready to embark on their journey. Their long legs sunk onto the snow. And the snow was very white, very pure and innocent, yet cold and dangerous, often like the death Ben always thought of constantly. Innocent, as its natural, yet cold, as the darkness sweeps you away into a world of uncertainty.

Jackson snapped his fingers, "Don't think too much, Ben, be here, be in the moment."

Ben nodded.

Jackson yelled for them to commence. And they began their journey down Snow Hill. Wind raced in their faces and their cheeks grew very cold. Ben saw the bottom of the slope closing in, very fast yet so slowly. He was in the moment. He saw himself as a child, racing Jackson down the slope in exchange for a bag of candy their parents had promised, he had won the race, leaving Jackson with nothing. Audrey came into his mind, spreading her toxic thorns across his conscious, but he stood, and walked away. The image of her slowly zoned away, as he reached the bottom of the slope. And he laughed loudly as the sleigh picked up more speed. Jackson glanced at him and smiled, and he too began to laugh. They raced down the slope, leaving behind the hill of the past, and reaching the bottom of the future.

They laughed together, in forgiveness.