literature

Snowflakes

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Published: Sep 15, 2012

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Literature Text

_{As a child, you always loved snow.

You loved the way it floated down from the sky, appearing out of nowhere - or at least, that's how it seemed to your young mind. The crisp white flakes drifted down from the puffy grey clouds, icing sugar on your cookie cutter world. It touched your skin, nestled itself in the crevices of your clothes, melted on your tongue. It made you smile, revealing teeth as pearly white as the ice itself; for all her flaws, your mother had always been very strict on dental hygiene. Your breath formed a cloud, so similar to the ones above, in front of you as you laughed, the flakes settling in your eyelashes making you giggle. They were so pretty, the snowflakes. You loved them.

You wish you still had those innocent snowflakes.

Nowadays, you almost never stop to feel the cold. Hell, you've gone so numb you doubt you would feel it even if you did. Neither the chill nor the wonder could pierce the shell you had built up around you. Your life had become an endless cycle; drag yourself out of the alley you had passed out in last night, stumble to your dealer. Get some booze and drugs and head to the local bar, the only place you could ever be pinned to. Spend the night drinking and enjoying your 'snowflakes' until you can't see, hear, feel or even care. Collapse onto the cold concrete again, restart the cycle. Those in the bar, your dealer, even the people on the streets are whispering. They say you're going to crash and burn soon, no doubt about it. Something's gotta give; half are betting on your heart, the others on your sanity.

Of course, you weren't surprised the day it happened.

No drugs. No booze. Too much partying, your dealer told you. No more. The old bastard had actually started to care about you. It didn't take long for withdrawal to set in; by the end of the night your were shaking more than one of those novelty snowglobes and earning nasty looks from shop-owners and passers-by as you threw up on their already filthy sidewalks. You wanted to somehow get to your bar, get some alcohol down your system before you did some strange spontaneous combustion act or something. But then you'd have to buy it, and money was one thing you did not have. You weren't about to disgrace yourself by begging on your hands and knees, either. So you did the only thing you could think of;

You lost it.

The bridge was so pretty that night. The streetlights washed the cement in a strange, alien glow that caught the slight ripples in the ebony waters below, making it seem as though the stars in the sky had fallen to the river below. The air was cool as you climbed atop the barrier, meant to discourage people like you. Standing up there, you felt a wave of something akin to peace wash over you. You were in control, finally. This was your choice, your decision, not anyone else's.

Just as you were about to jump, snow began to fall. The first snow of the winter. You hesitated and for one last time, felt that same fascination you had experienced as a child. The snowflakes, your innocent snowflakes, had returned to watch your end.

You fell with the ice and stars, letting the flakes guide you into the murky waters of death.}