Don't leave the house during a blizzard.

Each snowflake pierces the tender skin along my cheeks with every slam of my heel on the frozen pavement. Tears that escaped due to frosty air, only minutes ago, turn to icicles mid drip beneath stinging eyes. No matter how much I dig my lips into my scarf they refuse to go back to the berry pink they once were. Instead, emanating fatigue within the violet blues. I head towards the nearest shop I can find in hopes of warmth as well as craving to feel my limbs again. I glance to my left, through a squint, attention aimed towards a bright blue sign reading ‘Kensington Local’. My now fully numb body stumbles through the double glass doors, with a ding, ripping my useless damp hat from tattered tendrils of sable hair. 

“Hello?” 

No answer. 

Towards the corner of the shop a lone radio sits, near an unmanned till, blaring static instead of song. I take a cautious step toward the noisy box in search of any life behind the desk. A burning cigarette leans against an overflowing ash tray, the smoke trailing condensation along the snow covered glass of the window. Hauntingly eerie objects to find in an empty supermarket during a snow storm.

“Hello? Anybody in here?” 

No answer. 

Confusion, as well as angst, settles within me at the stillness polluting the store. In hopes that a worker is busy in the back, I scour the store for something to simmer my hunger. With each brush of my fingers around shelves I reprimand myself for forgetting to check the weather before leaving the house. It’s not the first time I’ve travelled miles away in clothes inappropriate for the weather. As my hand clutches a blue bag of chocolate covered pretzels, the bounce of a bell whips my head over to the front doors. Only to discover the back and forth rock of the right side door. 

Not a person in sight. 

“Hello?” 

No answer. 

This time the hesitance I once felt flees my being, as the salty sweet snack is thrusted back on to the shelf, and I find myself scurrying to the door. Facing the slap of a blizzard doesn’t seem too harsh when you’re in a store void of any people, only a screech of white noise to keep you company. I didn’t start watching horror movies at an early age just to die at what seems like such a cliché scene. Just when I thought my body couldn’t tense up any more than it already has, the shrill of a baby’s cry completely ceases any movement. 

What the f-?

The baby hollers even louder at my silence, unaware of the internal battle I’m having within my head, causing guilt to stab at me. 

You can’t leave a baby alone. 

Yet, the baby could also be a demon ready to snap and tear the flesh from your bones. 

With a huff, furrowed brows and tight fists I spin on my feet in search for the demon child. I turn down the third isle and low and behold there it lies, in a broken basket, ridiculing the boxes of cereal. My feet fall slow in their stride as my toes tingle with fright. Two steps away and the sobs halt along with my tip toeing. From my place, I see juvenile fingertips poking the pink of their blanket. My head tilts, as I stretch my body away from my immobile left foot, prepared to bolt at the sight of miniature fangs. Dripping curls curtain my face once I position my head above the baby adorned in a cherry red dress smothered in frills. A white bow wraps itself around the delicate strands on her head. Wide emerald eyes beam confusion once she spots me. A rain droplet, travelling along my forehead and down to the tip of my nose, softly hits her cheek causing a sweet giggle to leave her. Immediately, my face brightens in joy. 

“Hi sweet baby. Who’s gone and left you here, eh?” My fingers reach out to tickle her hands, movements soft as to not scare her. Of course, she doesn’t answer me. Instead she grasps at my bony fingers in an attempt to pause my torment, distracting herself with the diamond attached to a gold band.

Who would leave a baby at a supermarket?

Who would dress their baby in something so ugly?

“Come on sugar, let’s go find someone.” Carefully, I place her in my arms while chuckling at the amazement speckled within her eyes. I leave my bag with the basket as I set off in hopes of finding another human. Preferably one who can talk and feed themselves.

Walking to a door, assuming it leads to a store room or maybe some answers, my free hand jiggles the handle with determinations. Although, no matter how hard I yank at it, the handle wouldn’t budge. The baby in red lets out another giggle as though to mock my failure. 

“Hush you, I’d be on a bus home now if it wasn’t for your mysterious-basket-living self.” I bounce her as I saunter towards the phone behind the till, only as I near it I notice the cut chord. Both our eyes switch from the useless telephone to each other.

“Huh, that ain’t creepy at all... is it?” 

My grip tightens on the infant when I realise there might be some form of danger in the supermarket. Deciding a safer option would be to leave and find help from somewhere or someone else. I rush over to where the basket and my bag waited but they’re gone. As I move to check another isle sounds of footsteps creep up from behind me. At a last minute decision I turn my body with force unsure of what my plans are to scare away the stranger.

Yet, once I’m faced with the stranger I thank God I manage to keep the little girl in my grasp. Wishing I had both my hands to rub at my eyes that could be tricking me.

“Hi.” 

“H-hello.”