Snowstorm

Snowstorm

A whirlwind takes over; it swirls all around. I can’t think, I can’t see, I can’t hear, I have no focus. Papers are thrown and scattered all across the room, the desk is flipped over, and all the books are collapsing. Where do I go? 

The door flies open; the windows blow inward. The curtains are nearly ripped off their rack, and cold wind, oh so freezing, whirls by. I stand in the corner, witnessing it thrashed. I want out, but I don’t know how.

It is cold in here, but at least it’s tolerable. I could not handle the cold outside, and I do not even know where it leads. How do you expect me to make it out there? What if it is only worse? I want to leave, but I can handle this, and if I can survive, why leave? 

Ice and snow blow in, and I am freezing. I cannot move anymore, or at least not much. I need heat; I need motivation. I need something to burn inside me to warm up, something hotter than the cold around. Does that even exist? 

The bookshelf topples over; snow billows atop. I will be snowed in soon. What do I do? But if I stay in this corner, maybe I can survive; nothing outside could be better, especially if this is only a taste of the outside.

The snow begins to lessen; the few surviving papers start to fall. The weather is unbearable, but it is getting better. If I stay, maybe it will continue to warm and relax. 

After a couple of minutes of nearly hopeful peace, the snow continues. It is blowing harder, faster, and colder than before, and it is piling up quicker than I could ever expect. I do not think I can survive in here.

The door is being blocked, barricaded by snow and ice. I must go now, if I ever mean to try. But that is certain death! Snow continues to pile; I have no choice. 

I leap over the desk, around the snow pile, and through the door. It is excruciating! I cannot see with the snow, I cannot hear over the wind, and I cannot think as my brain is freezing. What do I do? I lost all sense of direction, and the door back in is missing. 

“Hey, what are you doing? It’s too cold to be out here like that,” I hear, mustering the ability to look and see a faint red glow. What is that?

“Who is it?” I scream, hoping for something. 

“I’m a friend, do you see my light?”

“Yeah, I do!” Snow continued to plaster my face and freeze my now numb body. “Is that fire?”

“Yes, it is, and you need shelter! If you can make it a little closer, I can help you!”

“But my door is here; how will I make it back?” This is a lie, I know it is close, but I lost it, the door is missing.

“Just trust me!” He reached out a hand, and I took a couple more steps to grab it. I do not know what I am doing, and it is scary, but if I do nothing, I will surely die. 

Our hands interlock, and next thing I know, I am waking up in a strange, new, warm place.