by Elsa Cunnington
I didn’t understand at first.
Why was it so cold?
Why was I here?
Knee deep in a blizzard, overzealous hair lashing at my frostbitten cheeks, I knew no one was coming to save me.
Dressed only in my summer pyjamas, I shivered, teeth chattering, staring into the unknown.
This place, it felt so familiar, yet I knew it wasn’t right. I should have fallen under long ago.
Words whipped by on wings of freezing wind.
They were the only thing I could differentiate from the white chaos that engulfed me.
The wind picked up, and my legs gave way.
I crumpled into a pillow of powder, which was oddly warmer than the remorseless wind above. I was ready to give up.
Upon closing my eyes, I felt the wind stop.
When I reopened them and stood, I saw the blizzard had dissipated.
I recognized nothing of my surroundings.
I knew then, I was lost, stranded in a field of snow; suspended in my own thoughts.