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The Blizzard


I stand outside in the open as the snow comes roaring down on my face. It’s dark outside and there is a small street light above me. All I see are layers of snow for miles and miles, not a person or animal in sight. How did I get here? Why am I here? My heart is beating a million miles an hour — I just want to go back home. I can only assume this is a dream, a cold, vivid dream.

I reach my arm out, hoping to feel the touch of a soft shoulder or the smoothness of a cheek. Nothing. I’m alone in this hell-blizzard. All I can do is wait for a miracle: death.

I curl up into a ball on the thick snow, allowing my long hair to cover my body like a curtain, shielding a little ball of fear. My hair does nothing to keep me warm. Thick tears sting at the back of my eyes, and a heavy lump rests in my throat. What’s the point of crying when death is inevitable? I laugh, burying my head into my numb knees.

Somewhere far away, a noise emerges. The sound of a creature growling in distress fills the snowy air. With the little light provided above me, I can make out a tall, skinny figure in the distance with glowing red eyes. It lets out another scream sending me to my feet. My body is weak, but I know I must run.

With each step I take, my legs grow heavier and heavier. The strong wind sways me back and forth, slowing me down. Rapid, heavy breathing slowly inches toward me. There is no escaping this creature.

I stop in my tracks, holding my breath. When I turn around, there is a puddle of blood sitting near my feet. Standing above me rests the most grotesque creature I’ve seen. He stares at me with those glowing red eyes, eager to feast on something.

What scares me the most is that no one will hear my screams in this blizzard.