I believe I have been blind because of snow. Since a little girl, I couldn't stop myself from staring at it, even when the teachers yelled at me to divert my wandering eyes back to my lessons.
I simply couldn't refocus. How could I, when the snowflakes were serenading me sweetly? I have to always thank them. It's so rude, forgetting to thank nature that God has graciously created.
Today I look at myself in my full length mirror. My body is slim and windy like a pole pointing straight towards heaven. I quickly wrap myself in my puffy coat.
I feel like I'm being swallowed--taken advantage of---fat.
"Fat--" Even inside my home, a whisper of smoke hastens out of my mouth as I say the word.
I open the door, and my eyes flicker and adjust to the overwhelming whiteness--a sea of furry white ice, floating and drowning me. I feel even heavier as I take a step with my thick black boots.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I can only look forward. Forward is all I see. Why look behind? Crunch crunch crunch.
The wind is singing her famous solo, and the snowflakes are freestyling in the bit of curly hair that manages to peek from my hood.
I tuck my hair back, feeling curiously exposed, although it was just the snow that was touching me. "My hair..." I whisper. Another snow wisp shivers out of my mouth.
I bite my lip and keep walking.
I finally reach a tree trunk; it's long and skinny and bare and I wrap my arms around it, as if I need an anchor from sinking in a flood.
Crunch crunch crunch, go my boots as I come closer to the trunk, and I stare at it up up up. Snow is still gently falling, crooning to me.
I quiver against the hardness of bark, feeling really hot in spite of the expected cold, and my body jerks as it unconsciously recollects,
remembering--remembering my back against the--my hands against the--
I open my mouth. It seems like I am smoking. It seems that I am high. Am I floating?
I jump away from the trunk, gasping, taking a step after another step away and away and gone.
It is extremely cold now and I don't know how long I've been out here and I'm all wet. I'm wet all over, I feel like I'm four. I feel like how I was when I wet myself in class---
I bubble up my cheeks, squinch my face up tight. I blink hard hard hard. I can barely close my eyes.
See how blind, how blind my eyes are to the snow?
Crunch crunch crunch. Pant pant pant. I want to go home. I don't want to go home. The wind howls like me---like me---no--- "It doesn't!" The words explode from my lips before I can stop it.
I start running. Crunch-crunch-crunch. Pant-pant-pant. How am I running? Why am I running? Every step I take feels like I'm being lifted, but then when I land I'm sinking deeper.
My feet suddenly do not go crunch-crunch-crunch and suddenly flail forward and I slam into the ground, face first in cold, shivering reality.
I remain on the ground forever.
I finally lift my heavy head.
I look behind me.
There are no footprints.
No footprints, from where I came. Just smooth and white white white.
That's when I start crying. Loud and hard and ugly, shaking the earth with my sobs. I wobble up to my feet, and I start walking not forward, but backwards, where my footprints should have been.
"Stop it! Please daddy..." Little me makes my heart freeze. I can still hear the slaps. My tears start pouring faster, but I keep walking. My footprints appear. I can see them.
I can find my way home.
I take step step step. I see myself slammed against the itchy tree trunk, I'm screaming. Girls are laughing. The boy is pinning my arms around the trunk, as if it was my anchor.
He is kissing me. I'm groaning and screaming, but everyone thinks I'm enjoying it. My footprint appears as I get closer to the tree.
I swear under my breath, and I kick the tree for good measure before moving on.
"Why is your hair so nappy?"
Grubby white hands pull and yank my hair. Black hands too. I try to swat them off. I try to yell at them. I can only stare, their words snowflakes in the foggy air.
I walk and walk, my footprint is emerging. The voices hush away.
I finally see my small house. I walk towards it and open the door, the wind scattering snow in the front hall. I sigh with relief and peel off my heavy coat.
But then I feel icy fingers.
"You... are... so... fat."
Both my mother and father are close to my ears.
I calmly walk to the fireplace. I make a fire to warm the house, and I slowly take off my knit sweater. My leggings, boots, everything.
I stare at myself in my full length mirror, slim and windy and shooting towards heaven.
I don't move, so Mom and Dad do. They scatter away like snowbunnies.
I don't know how long I stood there, naked in front of the mirror. Outside,the snow is still prancing and the wind is still moaning, but I'm busy gluing my eyes on the fire I made hours ago.
The orange and red sparks flutter in my eyes as they pop and crackle.
I believe I have been blind because of fire...
The writing prompt(Arielle(Reedsy): You go for a walk in fresh snow. Suddenly you realize you're not leaving any footprints.