The fire crackled and snapped, temporarily interrupting him from the daze that it had ensnared him in. He turned his head slightly to the right to get a perfect view of the first snowflake gliding down. Closing his eyes, he lightly smiled to himself. His thoughts seem to have wandered from one end of the earth to the next. He opened his eyes to find that there was a light sleet of snow now falling. The thoughts continued. He glanced back at the fire and was once again hypnotized by its freely flickering flames. The television had blared silently in the background with its minute commercials that always seemed to be advertising something to buy, especially around this time of the year. He grabbed the remote and turned it to one of the stations that were playing Holiday music, turning the volume down some. He looked at his watch. Six o'clock already? Sheesh, where did the time go? He once again allowed his thoughts to wander. How did he get here? Here? That was such a loose term being used at this time. Where was here? What was here? Here was....well, it was here. Here was every aspect of his life. Here was where the past had taken him. Here was who he was. Here was the new snow falling. Here was everything that there had brought him to.
The fire always seemed to compete with him as it snapped once again, disturbing his thoughts. He looked around the room and was amazed at how decorated it seemed to be with the lights hanging on the wall, the wreath hanging on the wall, the little snowmen statues placed here and there, the candles lit to give the room a serene mood, the tree brightly decorated with silver tinsel and different colored ornaments, and of course the pleasant fire burning. Yeah, he could sense it. He didn't know how or why, but he could sense it. He got up slowly, allowing his muscles to get a good stretch. Walking to the closet, he grabbed the warmest coat and put it on and walked outside zipping it up. A burst of freezing cold air blasted him, bringing a chill down his spine. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and walked down the steps.
He looked at the environment and what lain before him was magnificent. The trees were garmented with blankets of white. The vast mountains were painted pink and orange from the now setting sun. He caught a rabbit and a squirrel or two running in the glistening snow. It was as if God had intended for him to shine in the middle of this beautiful painting of his. As if the artist had painted this blue speck in the middle of this white landscape. Here was now. He caught himself smiling again. It was odd. Smiling, that is. He had never seemed to like to smile and now it was like his body had went against everything he had grown accustomed to and smiled on it's own. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes as the snow traveled downward and landed softly on the ground. He fell backwards and plopped in the snow. The snow flew up into the air and settled back down on him and the surrounding ground. It lightly tickled his nose before he brushed it off. He laid there momentarily before rotating his arms and legs back and forth, creating a snow angel. The cold air caused an ever-lasting chill in the air that didn't seem to cease. He looked around and noticed that there was a heavier blanket falling down. Pretty soon, he thought, the snow will have conquered everything around. He held his breath and listened to the silent pattering. It sounded a lot like rain. He also heard the scuffling of some small woodland creatures in the background and wondered what could be possibly be running through their minds. If they could think like us, then could it be possible for them to feel like us too? Did they find joy in chasing each other around through the woods?
Joy - such a complicated word. There were all types of joy; it was just a matter of which one you picked. It was the one emotion that everyone could feel in their own way, but yet it was harder to obtain. It was one that everyone wanted to feel, but would, in the end, lose their own dignity over it. It seemed more corrupted than greed. Greed was one type of joy, right? People all over the world had thought that money was something that could completely make them happy to the extent of losing their lives. In the end, it wasn't greed that killed the person, but it was the want to have complete joy. Was what he felt at this moment: joy? Was this his personal happiness? To be in utter silence with nothing but the sound of the sky dropping its delicate bombs upon the tender earth? He didn't really know. What he did know, though, was that a year ago, he was far from the feeling what he was feeling now.
These were one of the many such intricate thoughts that clouded the mind of the man that laid silently in the snow as it covered his body, inch by inch. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the arching sky. The dome look that it beheld made it seem endless and the clouds now covered up the blue, that was once there, making it seem as if the snowflakes were coming from nowhere. Life was flowing around him and unlike everyone else in the world, he was taking notice to it. He was watching life happen. It had amazed him how often people hadn't really thought about life. How they went on through their mundane lives never really caring about what was happening around them. He remembered at one time how he wanted to be part of that. How he wanted to be in the streets of New York, walking to one of his appointments while talking to his secretary about his future arrangements. He wanted to be deemed as a "suit and tie." He wanted to forget about life itself. He thought that if he had kept himself busy enough, then he wouldn't have to worry about life. He thought that life was always something that was given to you and not as something that you could make. Was that what had caused his unhappiness? Was it the fact that he was going to lose himself within the world? That he was going to become like every other pathetic human and only care about the things that were given to him in life? Not only because he wanted to, but rather because he thought he needed to. He thought that it was the materialistic things that could have brought real genuine joy. If that were the case, then what was this emotion that he was feeling? If society had characterized contentment by what you had, then how could what he felt have been happiness? He didn't have much. He was practically in the middle of the woods with nothing but the bare minimum and hardly enough money to even get the bare minimum. Yet, here he was, lying quietly in the snow, smiling...smiling about all of the things that he didn't have. This....what he felt...this had to be joy.
The snow crawled up his spine melting in his jacket and wetting his skin. He had lain long enough in the snow. He got up, the condensation coming off his breath like a brand new frost. He placed his hands in his pockets to warm them, looked around at the pristine environment, and chuckled to himself. The snow had now commandeered everything excluding the freshly made snow angel. He looked up, closed his eyes, held his arms out, and began spinning. He laughed more and more as he got dizzier with each spin. The powder made it tremendously difficult to catch his footing and before he knew it, he was falling over himself into the snow again. He took a moment to breathe before laughing out loud again. He felt like a kid again: carefree. Was that what caused his happiness? Not having to worry about anything? It seemed that this was the key to a child's success in life. This was seemingly the solution at hand to the impending question, but there was still something missing. Something that tinkered at the back of his mind and it moved around precariously, not allowing him to put his finger upon it.
The snow finally stopped colliding to the ground, its dissension a grand finale of orchestrated silence; the clumps falling off the pines of the trees were the final clash of the cymbals. Even the scuffling had ceased. He opened his eyes seeing the sky pull back its curtained clouds. It was a magnificent sight to see the sun glow its radiance upon the blinding skin of the snow. He smiled once more. A face appeared in front of his view, smiling brightly. The auburn hair flowed down like a waterfall splashing into the air. The red ribbon tied neatly behind the head, with a bow perched atop this mountain of strands, blew slightly with the flow of the wind. The face was upside down, but the dazzling blue eyes that stared down at him were enough. Enough to let him know. Two hands raised in front of this face with a snowball firmly between them. The snowball increase in size and came crashing down on his face. The face giggled a cute little laugh.
"Lost in thought again?" The face asked. He wiped the snow off his face, blowing a few flakes off.
"Yeah." He said lightly through another smile. It wasn't the simplicity of his life or the carelessness of it that had brought him the joy that he currently felt. It wasn't the fact that he had escaped the hustle and bustle of life that made his smile appear suddenly. It wasn't the snow, the playful creatures, or the childishness of making a snow angel that filled him up with intensity. The source behind all his thoughts, all his ideas and theories was hidden in the beautiful face that had just pummeled him with the cold fluff. He got up slowly only to have two arms wrap around him and knock him down again.
"Well, stop it." She said. "You know that's bad for you." she giggled again.
"Not this time." he replied.
"Oh? How so?"
"Well..." he started.
"No, no. Wait. Don't tell me now."
"Why not?" He looked down at the intrigued face a bit puzzled.
"Because I want you to tell me when I'm almost asleep later."
He smiled. "Alright." He wondered what brought her out here. He had tried not to wake her up when the snow first started. He even turned the TV. down so as to not disturb her slumber. "What woke you up?" he asked.
"Your stupid laugh." she replied smiling lightly.
"Oh, is that so?" he chuckled.
"Yeah. I mean, how is a woman supposed to sleep when there's some maniac outside making snow angels and laughing as if no one is around?"
"Beats me." He shrugged.
"Well, now I'm awake."
"Looks like it." He grabbed a handful of snow without her seeing, raised his hand above her head, and dropped the ice on her. She didn't attempt to shake the snow out of her hair. She just lowered her eyes in a sort of "Did you really just do that?" manner. He laughed as if to answer, "Why, yes. I believe I just did." He started scampering away from her arms, preparing himself for her retaliation. As he got up, she scooped a handful, packed it, and threw it in his direction. He dodged it, laughing as he did. "Missed!" he yelled as another ball sped towards him. It hit him directly in the face. She pointed and laughed.
"Not that time."
"Come here, you." he said racing after her. She screamed and began running. He grabbed her around the waist, picking her up, and twirling her around as she yelled.
"Let me go, you beast!"
"Beast, eh?" He continued to spin her around until he knew she couldn't take anymore. He slowed down and placed her down lightly standing back to watch as she tried to regain her balance. She fell over in the snow. It exploded into a cloud of flakes around her, gliding downwards. Despite all of the obstacles that were now behind him...here was now. It was this very moment. This moment of tremendous joy, of sanctified peace, of childish antics, and complete freedom.
"That was cheating!" she finally mustered after catching her breath.
"Oh and ambushing me while I was deep in thought wasn't?" he retorted.
"No." she said shyly.
"How so?"
"Because you woke me up and you shouldn't have been thinking in the first place."
"And you shouldn't have woken up a bear in hibernation if you weren't prepared for the consequences."
She thought this idea over. "You're not a bear. Matter of fact, you're far from being a bear. You're more like a....hmmmm....."
"Don't you say it."
"....a...ferret!"
"Why you..." he ran towards her but she was already flinging snow in his direction. One after another hit him in a cloud of puff. Here was now. Here was everything that there had brought him to. Here was having all the obstacles that there had given him behind him. Here was her. He caught up with her as she held a snowball above her head prepared to throw it. She smiled evilly as if to say "I dare you to take a step closer." He just looked down at her feeble self and smiled. She squinted her eyes thinking that he was up to something.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked.
"I was just thinking...." he started just as he was hit with the snowball.
"What did I tell you about that?" she laughed.
He didn't wipe the snow off, he didn't go after her. He just stood there and started laughing. Here was everything that he dreamed. Everything that he had written about in stories, but only expected them to stay on the pages that he wrote. Here was the dreams that he had. The dreams that he knew were only nightmares because they were never real. The dreams of having someone such as her, playful, cheerful, and full of life. He looked behind her and saw the snow capped mountains as the sun shined brightly on them painting them with an orange tint. A snowflake descended and landed on his nose. He was almost surprised by it considering that the sun was still out. He looked up and saw the clouds closing back, preparing the earth for another bombardment. He could almost feel the land tense up beneath his feet. Then another snowflake came down and another and another. One after the other they glided down like men in parachutes. He stared down at her now wondering what her thoughts were. She just looked up watching the snow come down as well. She watched one glide down in front of him but stopped her stare when it went pass his face.
"Hey there." she smiled shyly again.
"Hey." he returned the smile.
She got up, grabbed his hand, and started pulling. "I want to show you something. Come with me." He nearly hesitated, but finally let her tug at him. She took him to the edge of the woods where she let go of his hand. He followed naturally watching her run ahead a little bit. The snow danced around her lightly as she twirled around causing disturbances in their gliding patterns. Everything had become brighter despite the gray clouds that hovered above. Was this the cause of her presence alone? He wouldn't doubt it. He noticed how much his countenance had improved when she arrived. It was as if she had a certain charm to the way nature reacted. He watched silently as she danced thinking about how beautiful she was. How her auburn hair fell down, how her lips parted, how her eyes glistened a bright sparkling blue, how her face beamed when she smiled. All of this was perfect in every aspect of her. She stared back at him, piercing through his soul, uncovering all of his thoughts, all of his dreams. With just a single stare, he was lost. He followed the footsteps she had engraved in the snow, wondering where she was taking him, wondering how she had this trance over him. She disappeared into the thickets of the pines just beyond his view.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked. She didn't respond. He could hear her humming a tune. It seemed to be off in the distance, fading almost. In the background he heard a truck pull up. "Hey, I'll be right back, ok?" he said. He didn't hear a response and he didn't wait for one. He figure she would wait for him, hiding herself among the leaves, waiting to attack him when he returned. He ran up to the house and saw Emily emerge from her truck. Emily was a good friend of his, always stopping by to see how he was doing. They had been the best of friends for a little over ten years. He could hardly believe that she had driven through the thick snow in order to visit him today.
"Hey, Em!" he hollered from across the yard.
"Hey! What are you doing out here?"
"Oh, I just playing around in the snow."
"I see that." she raised an eyebrow at him. "You want to help me with these groceries?" she asked after a short moment.
"Oh, sure. You know, you don't have to keep buying me food. I can get my own." he said grabbing a bag from the bed of the truck.
"Really, it's no problem." She looked at him strangely. They reached the kitchen and she laid the bags on the table. "Dear...just out of curiosity, was there anyone else you were playing with a minute ago?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Who was it?"
"Come on, Em. You know who."
"Was it her?"
"Yeah." he said smoothly. "Is there a problem?"
Time seem to have stood still. She couldn't believe what she was hearing again. She sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and started to talk. He began putting up the groceries in the cabinets.
"Dear....you....you know she's not real, right?"
He paused and turned slightly. "Excuse me?" He said incredulously.
"She's...she's not real....she's" she mustered up the courage to say the next two words with a lump in her throat. "...she's....gone."
"Wha....H...how could you say something like that?" His back was towards her. He looked down at the ground, clinching his fists. The phrase hit him hard. The tears began to swell. He was prepared for the next statement knowing that whatever were to come out of his best friend's mouth would be inevitably true.
"We've been through this so many times now. She's been gone for the last five years. You've been imagining her again, haven't you?"
"No. She....sh...she was here. I was playing with her. In the snow. Right out there in the lawn." He pointed as if the gesture would make her understand. "We...we...were right there. You can go look. There's two sets of footprints out there. There's....there is mine....and then....and then there’s hers. They're out there. Go look!" The tears were coming down now, flooding his cheeks, not leaving a single area untouched of their dampness. "Come!" He grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her outside. He began calling out her name as he walked down the steps. He yelled and hollered, but no reply was returned. He drug Emily to where he and her were playing, looked down, and only saw what he had done. There was only one set of footprints there. Only his. He ran into the forest where she had taken him, moving branches out of the way in order to find some sort of remains of her existence. The only things within the forest were his footprints and those had stopped where he had heard Emily pulled up. Beyond that there was nothing.
"Oh, sweetheart." Emily started. She took a deep breath. "I know it's been hard for you to handle, but you'll get through this." She wrapped her arms around him and began guiding him back to the house. "You see, it's been hard for you to handle and so, lately, you have been conjuring her up in your mind. You think she's around when she's not and I know....I know you can get through this. I believe in you." She took him up the stairs and back into the house, sitting him down at the table. He slumped over in the chair, hanging his head down. After a couple of moments Emily broke the silence. "Are you alright, dear?"
He looked up at her, with the tears coming down his face, leaking uncontrollably. His lower lip quivered, and mucus was running down his nose. "Whe....where...is she?" He blubbered. "Where did....did she go?" he sniffled "and why...why did she leave me?" The tears continued and wouldn't stop. This happened every time. It was the reason why Emily had to buy his groceries. He couldn't be trusted outside with the general public. Not if he was imagining people who weren't there. What were to happen if people caught him talking to himself? They would have locked him up and thrown away the key if he introduced them to her. That was something that she couldn't allow. So, for four years now, she had been living with him, making sure that he stayed contained in the house. At times, he was aware that his sanity had slipped, but other times he refused to believe it. Fortunately, this time he was aware of it.
"I don't know, dear. I really don't know the answers that you seek. I wish I did...." she began to struggle through the tears too. She couldn't bear to see him go through this pain every time. She had even thought about turning him in herself, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. There were just days where she couldn't handle it. In the ten years that she had known him, this was utterly the worse that he had ever been. "I really do wish I did, but there aren't any answers that I could even begin to give you."
"Then....please....lie to me."
The statement took her by surprise. She knew he could barely deal with the truth, but he wanted her to lie to him? He wanted her to tell a story. She couldn't. It was too much. Although, she couldn't lie to herself, she had been waiting for this day; anticipating the day that he would turn to her and tell her to tell him something that he could hold on to, something he could hope for, but could she? Could she feed into his fantasy and build it up to this disillusioned thought? Could she dwindle the dream above his head knowing that he would never be able to reach it? Would it even have helped him? There was no way of truly telling, but she had to try. "Alright, I'll tell you." she said after a few minutes. "I'll tell you, but afterwards, I don't want you to ask me which parts are real and which aren't, ok?"
He nodded, wiped his arm across his nose, and sniffled the remains of his snot. "...ok."
She smiled slightly and began her tale. It would be an immaculate story.
"Once upon a time...." She started.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.03.2010

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