Familiar Cold

It was early January and it had been snowing for a few days now. The city had been forced to a standstill. Chaos around every corner. But here…it was so peaceful. The snow in the city was mushy, tarred, treacherous. Here it was crisp, shimmering, pure. The whole forest around me was covered in it – glistening elegantly in the moonlight. The gleam reflected off my pale skin making me look glowing, almost ethereal. The skies were so much clearer here. I could even make out constellations. Something I can never see from the tiny balcony of my flat.

I often came out at night to walk through nature. Sometimes the calm of the forest helped clear my mind. Sharpen my judgement. The hustle and bustle of city life was sometimes too much to handle. So many people with so many places to be. There never have time to just stop. I wanted to stop. Just spend a few moments, no matter how long, without having to think about tomorrow. Just consume myself in the here and now, maybe even dream dreams that seem impossible to see through the smog of the city.

The forest was so quiet. So peaceful. I walked in between the trees, touching them in passing and feeling their cold, icy touch. The ivy on the trees that had survived the harsh winter had frozen stiff. I tried not to touch that. They were so gentle I dare not feel them in case they break.

A gust of wind blew through the trees and I shivered. It had been particularly cold these past few days. I could feel it in my core, like it was slowly freezing over insides and lulling me into an eternal sleep. A very tranquil feeling, to have everything just stop, if only for a second. The cold here was so much sharper, not like the dulled down winds of the city. Everything in the city was dulled down. Unnatural. The snow that had been reduced to slush there had frozen over and become a hazard, and the lake in the park was now a sheet of muddy ice. Children had to be stopped from trying to run and skate on it. I chuckled to myself. I had been like that once. Adventurous, brave, daring. Not anymore. I preferred now to just…wonder. Take things one step at a time.

Its amazing how easily you can be worn down like ice forming on a worn-down road, creating cavernous holes that are never filled in. How easily your dreams can be tossed aside for someone else’s agenda. Move away. Get a city job. Earn money. Rent a flat. Buy a house, if you’re lucky... That’s not what I want. But it’s what I have to do. I wanted to do so much with my life…but it was not meant to be. I can only voice these thoughts with the forest around me. The animals, the plants, and today the snow.

I had lost track of time. I knew it was a Friday, so I had nowhere to be and no one to see the following day. If I got lost here, it would not matter. No one would care anyway. Maybe I should just stay here, make a treehouse or a makeshift camp. Or maybe it was a bit too cold for that. Yes, it was far too cold for that. I shivered, looking up at the cloudless sky through the thicket of branches above. I should probably get back to my car. I could easily find my way back my following my footprints in the snow.

I turned around too look at my tracks but…

No.

It can’t be.

This isn’t right.

Maybe it was snowing so heavily it was filling them in?

I looked at the sky, then back to the floor. No. Although it was snowing, it wasn’t heavy enough to fill in my tracks as soon as I lifted my feet. I stomped down onto the snow, over and over. Trying desperately to make tracks. No such luck. Nothing.

My breathing quickened. I felt dizzy and numb. What was going on? I don’t understand. This makes no sense. I was starting to panic. I began looking around in circles over and over to see if I could find any tracks. Anything to prove I was here, making an impact in the freshly fallen snow. I would have felt my heart beating as fast as a baby bird’s if I had not been so cold.

That’s when I noticed my feet. Not shoes. Feet. Bare feet. In the snow. No wonder I was so cold.

This wasn’t making any sense. Why would I be out here in my bare feet? I distinctly remember wearing shoes…I think.

I lifted my foot and examined it. It was so pale it was practically blue. I needed to find warmth. Now.

Things were just getting worse and worse. What was going on? I began to run. Run back in the direction I had come from. This was all a bad dream. It had to be. There was no way this was real. It was impossible. Soon, I would wake up in the front seat of my car, key in the ignition ready to go. I must have fallen asleep. I must have finished my walk and fallen asleep. That was the only explanation. As I ran I stumbled over roots and shrubbery, feeling them push and pull on me as I desperately tried to escape whatever reality I was trapped in.

My next stumble sent me toppling over and rolling down a small hill. I screamed as I flew down, somehow managing to avoid the trees in my path. I skirted down to the bottom, and lay there for a few moments, breathing heavily. This can’t be real. There is no way. I sat up, looking at hill I had tumbled down. No tracks. No trace of my fall. I took a deep breath and grabbed both of my arms, hugging myself. I pinched the bare skin of my arms, trying to wake myself up. But I felt nothing.

Wait, where was my coat? I was just wearing jeans and a vest top, in this weather! I shook my head. I remember putting these on…under a jumper and a coat. With socks and boots. How did this happen? How long had I been like this? Not to mention the fact I wasn’t leaving tracks. Maybe I had fallen. Maybe I had hit my head and woken up, and that’s why I couldn’t see my footprints in the snow…because my vision was blurry? It was incredibly dark, save for the moonlight when the trees didn’t block it’s rays, so it isn’t impossible that that’s the reason I can’t see. That wouldn’t explain the clothes though…

If even a grain of my theory was true, it was a miracle I was still alive.

I needed to get a grip. I took more deep breaths, trying to steady my breathing. I braced myself and got to my feet, clenching my fists. I needed to find my car. Or a person. Either was fine.

I began walking the opposite way I had been, trying to remember where I had come from. I think I remember climbing over some rocks…It wasn’t much, but it was better than wondering aimlessly. I began to make my way towards some snow-covered rocks I could see in the distance. I trudged on through the snow, still finding it difficult to move through despite the fact I left no tracks I could see. When I reached the first rock, I put my hand on it and felt the cool surface underneath my palm. This was familiar. I must be on the right track.

I continued following the trail of rocks. That’s when the deathly silence was broken. Faintly, in the distance, I could hear water. Running water. I suddenly became very aware of how thirsty I was. I tried to swallow, but my throat was so rough it made me cough. Water was a priority, then. I followed the noise, using the rocks as stability as I clambered over the roots of the oak trees around me.

The louder the noise got the more my head buzzed. I must be so dehydrated. I continued to follow it for what seemed like an eternity, the when I pushed past a berry bush before my eyes was a mighty river. That faint flow I heard before was replaced with the roar of the gushing water, fighting so adamantly against the cold. Trying so hard to not turn to ice. I went up to the bank and kneeled besides it, dunking my hand into it and immediately feeling the cold envelope me.

This cold was so familiar…I immediately forgot my thirst. I got to my feet again, almost as if I was in a trace, and began to follow the rivers flow. Follow it downhill. The path it took slowly narrowed and the roar it had produced near the top of the hill had almost ceased at the bottom. It was slowly but surely turning to ice, the water from higher up fighting relentlessly to break the slates that had formed at the bottom, but to no avail. The river of ice slithered further down and formed into a giant frozen expanse. I looked at it wide-eyed, with almost a child-like fascination.

That’s when I remembered all the children that would skate on the lake back in the city. I remembered myself as a child, staying out past my curfew to skate on it with my friends. I laughed as I placed my foot onto the cold sheet of water, so reflective it could have been glass. Laughed again as I put my other foot on the ice, the moon dancing across the ice. Teasing me. I remembered this. This was familiar. I continued to laugh as I walked further towards the centre of the lake, remembered what it was like to be free.

I looked up for a split second, escaping briefly from my trance. Across, on the other side of the lake, I could see a pair of boots with socks in…a bright blue jacket with a black jumper neatly folded on top, covered in a thick layer of glistening snow…My clothes.

I became painfully aware of how cold I was as soon as I saw them. I began to run towards them, thinking only of the warmth they would provide, when I slipped on the ice beneath me and skidded across it. I squeezed my eyes closed until I stopped moving. I was face down on the ice, the cold nibbling at my nose.

When I opened my eyes, I screamed.

A guttural, primal scream. Inhuman.

At first, I thought it was my reflection. It had to be. But it wasn’t. The features of what lay beneath were too peaceful, not like my contorted screech. The features of what lay beneath were still, eyes closed, unmoving. The features of what lay beneath the ice looked so similar to mine…because it was me.

I was under the ice.

Dead.

My body was under the ice and my spirit lay sprawled above it.

And that is where we both remained.