The sky was cloudless, clear. The wind wasn’t there, it had vanished. The stars shone dimly against the light of the almost-full moon; the moon’s light was shining over the forest behind me, giving it a halo glow. I could hear the sound of a slow running river, just somewhere out of reach.
Everything was...different. It was warmer and safer before, but now things were bitter. Curiosity struck my heart like lightning and I let out a faint gasp. It was so very cold. I couldn't get over how cold it was. I curled up and rested my head upon the earth. I wanted to be warm again. This place was not home. I wanted to be home.
My back was leant against an old oak; legends say it’s the eldest tree in the whole forest. Acorns were starting to sprout above my head.
I stared at the tree. The way it looked was unusual; it was beautiful but weird. Some of the branches looked like they were about to snap off but others looked healthy. The acorns were the most striking feature; the way they mysteriously sprouted reminded me of birth.
The night was becoming so chilling. It was beginning to suck the life and soul out of this dull, little forest; it was as if it were collapsing around me. The air was cold, the after effects of a night of heavy snow. Not uncommon for a late-Novembers night.
The night was so cold! My body was beginning to shiver; my teeth were beginning to chatter. I felt exhausted. Mentally...and physically. My energy was drained.
I’m so very cold.
I must of fallen asleep...
I'm falling...Why am I falling? I'm going to crash!
This was once my favourite place.I used to come here almost every day. It was my childhood.
It was almost dawn; the blaze of the orange sun could be seen just over the horizon.
White…nothing but white! It resembles purity, doesn’t it? That’s what they say. But, what is pure about this world? Nothing; it never goes your way.
The sky is black. It’s dark and cruel, just like life. Everything is bitter. This world is dark. This world is cruel. It throws everything at you.
The sun may be up, but the world was still cold; freezing, even.
The path I had traveled the night before was almost none existent; the heavy snow of the night before had covered every inch of this sad, forgotten land. All I could see was white, nothing but white!
The only reason you could tell that this land had any colour left was because of the darkness of the ashes and beeches and oaks' trunks. The dank smell of undergrowth filled the air, filled my nostrils.
