“Buried in the Snow”: A Chilly Fictional Story

With winter coming and bringing with it a whole bunch of scary exams, it’s nice to step back and breathe a little bit. Here’s a little pre-winter story to get the balls rolling!
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Buried in the Snow
          A cold, February chill rushed into the classroom, sending a shiver down each
students’ spine. Pencils scratched on paper as the snow continued to blow outside, bringing with it the vague promise of a much-coveted snow day. Victor put down his pencil and turned to gaze passively at the scenery. Down in the park, a father lifted his daughter in the air, and two children happily built a snowman. The snow shimmered in the sunlight, illuminating their wide smiles and rosy cheeks.
          Victor didn’t understand what others loved about the snow. It was just frozen water, just coldness, and it would melt just as soon as it came, leaving behind dirt-coated slush that would soak everyone’s socks for days. His eyes followed a snowflake as it gently fluttered by the window. Others may have seen beauty or gracefulness in it, but to him it was just…that. A snowflake. It would spend its short existence falling softly, quietly, only to be extinguished under someone’s foot.
          And so Victor didn’t understand why winter was loved, because all winter brought was death.
          Because nothing lived forever, and winter was a cruel reminder of that. Because the snowflakes died, and the bright white snow—blinding like the hospital walls, like his mother’s pale face—became corrupted and stepped on. Because tree leaves wilted, and all life was suffocated by a dark blanket of despair, like flowers and grass and minds and hearts and—
          The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
(If you’re wondering, I got the inspiration to write this while listening to the OST “Buried in the Snow” from FFVII, hence the title. Check it out!)

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