It’s been three months since we started our journey. I’ve lost three of my friends to the unending blizzard of this inhospitable place and even the best fire can’t keep us warm enough anymore. I fear all is lost. Mother, father, what can I say to help you to understand that I’ve made a terrible choice? I should have listened to my friends and stayed at home; warm and safe. It’s almost time for the holidays and here we are, freezing cold and I know we’re lost, but I can’t admit it to the others.
I forget often what we’re out here for and I don’t even care anymore, all I want do is go home, but the way is lost. We could be a mile from salvation or, heavens forbid, we’ve been marching and trudging farther away constantly. I lost our map when my tent blew away while we were taking a bathroom break. A bathroom… that would be amazing right now. All I need is a shower, at this point. To wash away the sweat. Water that I don’t have to melt against my flesh over the hours we move.
I miss my father’s strong voice. The way he’d talk and tell me about work, where he’d have to travel to, and how he’d miss us while he was gone. I miss my mother’s cooking and stories, the way we’d sit together as a family in the den and just talk and laugh once a week. There was a time I hated socializing so much but now I’d trade my working kidney for it.
All is white, as far as we can see. When the cold stops enough to let us feel the warmth of the sun I am thankful for that much before the weather begins again; stealing the warmth and hope from our coats, as well as our hearts. I think I’m wearing five layers of winter gear and I haven’t felt anything below my knees for, I think, two days. Probably longer. It’s hard to tell time in this place, hard to tell anything.
Just keep moving. That’s all we have to do, keep moving in a straight line and eventually we’ll happen across something, darn it. There’s an end to every storm, every night, every dream. The way out is ahead, and even if I don’t make it, one of us has to.
I dream of food, often. A hot meal, a cold soup, a warm sandwich… desserts. Cakes, pies, fritters, dumplings count as both, right? Dinner and dessert? Maybe I could try a mix when I’m back home. I’ll have a buffet every day I want with all my family and friends, the neighbors… even the guy across the street that isn’t liked by anyone else. Sweet dreams to that one.
I’m drooling into my scarf, and it’s still cold. Still bitter. Still lonely. When did I become alone? Where are my friends? Did they leave me or did I wander off? I can’t shout over the storm, so I’ll save my energy. Backtracking is a fool’s errand, so I must press on. Perhaps they’re just ahead of me and they passed me while I drifted in my own mind.
I... see something. Oh Sweet Celestia, it’s beautiful, it’s… a house! Salvation is there!
“Salvation!” I call into the wind that steals my words as they leave my mouth. I’m done trying. I’m going to make it to that house and warm up, have a meal, and see my friends again.
They’re there, waiting for me. I know they made it and they’re just resting in a room. They’re toasty with hot chocolate in their bellies and they’re telling stories to the homeowners. There’s some food cooking and stew in a pot on the stove. Dessert smells mix with it all, and when I get in there, I’ll be worshipped like a deity. Maybe even have time to tell my story before I see my mom again and have to explain my long absence. My father will understand, he’s always going away on adventures.
My friends will have to tell me when they passed me and left me alone to die in the blizzard and how they survived. Three friends are waiting to see me, three friends are waiting to fill me with the attention we all need and desire; with love that only survivors such as we can understand.
*.*.*.*.*.*.
The door opens and I breathe in the warm air, letting the door handle go and lowering my tasteless scarf. “M-m-mom, I’m h-h-home.”
“Merry? You’re late young lady,” she replies as she turns the corner from the kitchen, wiping mouth on an apron before she looks at me. “Merry! You’re chilled to the bone,” she runs over and hugs me. She’s so warm. “You didn’t wear your boots? And in this weather?! What’s wrong with you, honey?”
I sniffle and shiver hard in her embrace and she quickly turns to push me into the den where the heat is on and it melts the snow from my coat. I disrobe as I collapse onto the floor in front of the couch and lay there nearly naked as the warm air steals the cold from me.
“Thanks, mom,” I mumble as my eyes get heavy.
“Darling,” she looks at me as she picks up my cold jacket and scarf, “you were two blocks away. How’d you get into such a shape?”
I chuckled. “My friends ditched me and I had to walk alone. It was cold so I made it into an adventure, like you taught me.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “Your friends have been in your room waiting for you for the last ten minutes. You got lost in your imagination again, didn’t you?”
I felt myself blush as the sound of my friends descending the stairs filled the house. “Well, it was hard not too,” I sigh, “I can’t help it, I have issues, remember?”
“I love you, baby, but you can’t blame your poor eyesight on your active imagination. Wear your glasses,” she said as she took my now warming cloths back to the entryway.
She’s right, but at least I’m not a lost adventurer, right?
