The Melt At The End

The snow had fallen all night, and now the light from the early morning sun glistened off the vast white panorama that had been the back garden. As she waited for the kettle to boil Hannah stood at the back door and stared in wonder.

The lawn had never been so flat or perfect, and it looked as though it were made from a single sheet of pure white felt. The path wound down the middle, visible only as a slightly sunken trail of perfection. Great clumps of snow clung to the branches of the tree and the bushes, weighing them down, smothering them. A silence lay upon the view, but it was a peaceful silence, matched by the stillness of the scene.

Perfection, pure and simple.

Hannah smiled and basked in the beauty. It was a guilty moment of pleasure, before she went back to her coursework, and tried to work out what the hell was happening to her grades. Try as she might, they’d just kept slipping over the last few months, and now it was affecting her sleep as well. Tea would help that at least–

“Wahoo! Snow day!” The brat charged past and made a beeline straight for the back door.

“What?!” Hannah reached out and grabbed his hood, yanking him away from the handle. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Outside! Come on, Hannah, it’s snowing!”

“No, it’s stopped snowing. And you can’t go out there, you’ll mess it all up.”

“Mess it up? But that’s what it’s there for! To play in! Come on.”

The little sod started wriggling in her grip, but being seven years older Hannah had the height advantage. She pulled him up, dangling him on his tiptoes by his skinny coat.

“You are not going outside. Understood?”

“But–”

“No! You’re just going to ruin it, like you do everything!”

The brat wriggled again and the hood slipped from Hannah’s hand, but she lunged for the door quicker than him. She leant against it and glared down at him, until he broke into his whining and ran off back into the living room.

“Muuumm!” he cried as he went.

“Oh, great. Thanks, you little worm.”

Hannah was taking the teabag out of her mug, still desperately trying to memorise the view, when their mother came into the kitchen.

“Hannah? What’s all this about you not letting Malcolm outside?”

“But, Mum, look at it. It’s perfect. He’s just going to ruin it, and make a stupid mess, like he always does. Can’t we just leave it?”

With a sigh her mother pulled another mug out the cupboard and brewed herself a cup of tea. As she worked she was silent, but Hannah knew that silence. It was the brooding, ‘you’re in for a lecture’ silence. Hannah did her best to hide herself in her own drink. It was too early in the morning to have it ruined by being yelled at for her schoolwork again.

“This isn’t just about the snow, is it?” her mother asked as she finally finished up, and leant against the counter next to Hannah.

“Of course it is. What else could it be about?”

“School.”

“Mum, I’ve told you, I am trying–”

“I didn’t mean your work or your grades. The garden right now is like your school life, isn’t it?”

Hannah turned and frowned. All she’d seen was the untouched blankness, but if this metaphor was keeping her from being yelled at, then she wasn’t about to interrupt.

“Right now,” her mother continued, “your school life is perfect. You have friends, you’re doing well, you’re comfortable. The world’s as it should be.”

The last thing Hannah wanted to do was point out that her grades had been falling, so she took another sip of tea and waited to see where her mother ended up.

“Your world is happy, and you don’t want that to change. Just like the snow out there. Everything in its right place. But you can see the end coming, the melt at the end of the year.”

A slow churning feeling started building in Hannah’s stomach. “Mum, leave it.”

“No, darling. Not when you take it out on your little brother. You’re worried that your world is about to change, that your perfect scene is going to be shattered. I understand that sweetheart. You’re not the only one going through that.” Though she didn’t turn round, Hannah felt her mum come up closer and put an arm round her. Despite no one else being there to see it Hannah tried to keep her distance, and her dignity. “I’m about to lose my baby girl to university. It’s a big change for all of us as well. But that’s what life is. A hundred changes, big or small. Some of them we have control over, but most of them we don’t. And we can’t deny them either. All we can do is roll with them, and make the most out of all the opportunities we’re given.”

They stood and watched as a clump of snow fell from the gutter overhead, and landed with a soft splat beneath the window. Hannah gulped in a breath and leant on her mother’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered. It was the first time she’d admitted it, even to herself.

“I know, my love. But you can’t stay here forever. Just like the garden can’t stay perfect forever.”

They stood and watched the garden some more, until they heard Malcolm’s strop start to descend down the stairs again.

“I’d better go and sort that out,” her mum said with a sigh. She kissed Hannah’s head before putting her mug in the wash. “Just remember, nothing lasts forever. Make the most of it while you can.” Then she turned and headed off, calling to Malcolm as she went.

Hannah stood for a while longer, still nursing her empty mug in her hands as she thought. Now that her mum had said it Hannah knew what had been haunting her for the past few months. It was what had made her sleep badly, made her struggle with work, made her grouchy. Life was everything she wanted right now, and she hated the fact that she was going to have to give it up. Whenever her friends asked she pretended she was excited about leaving for university, but truth be told all she wanted was to carry on like this forever.

“And how lame is that?” she muttered to herself. There was so much more to life than her small circle of friends, even if they did have so much fun. She could travel, she could meet more people, learn so many more new and amazing things.

But not if she stayed here. Not if she clung so desperately to maintaining the present.

Malcolm was thundering through the house, but once again Hannah was too quick. Mug on the side, she flung the back door open and leapt out into the snow, ignoring the dismayed cry behind her as she stole the chance from her little brother.

Hannah’s feet went crunch into the fresh, frozen snow. With each step she made a vow to herself. I’ll never let anyone steal my chances. Especially myself.