First Snow (short story)

        

She threw the window open; leaving the pitch-dark room illuminated with a pretty shade of grey. A shiver ran down her spine, and the cold breeze greeted her, making her hair dance behind her shoulder.

It was snowing.

First Snow!!

The very first snow of the season!!

It was dark outside, but she could still see the blanket of crystal snow covering the tower of logs.

She gathered her hands around her, a poor attempt at comfort. 

The wind was howling through the woods, making the tree branches shake to their core. She couldn't

help but recall her days at the castle, her spacious room, the shining floor, the gold-plated window

frames, her beautiful daisy-printed curtains, the soft and fluffy bed, she was already missing them,

miserably.

when she was young a witch knocked on the doors of the castle, she claimed that the daughter

of the second king will be the reason for the downfall of the kingdom. but when she was born her

father never distanced her, his action never showed any sign of discomfort, she wondered if he

even remembers anything of the curse.

She closed her eyes, they say if you make a wish during the first snow, it comes true.

Tiny snowflakes had started to get inside the room.  

She wished "One day I'll get out of this room and discover how the snow feels on my hand, how it tastes

on my lips, the smell of grass, walking over it with my bare feet, I want to discover it all.... again...."

Just then the door creaked open, making her jump, her heartbeat picked up faster, and a silhouette of a

the man appeared at the door holding a lantern in one hand and a plate — as she assumed — in the other.

She could see how huge he was. Fear spread in her entire body, as she slid her feet until her back hit the

the frame of the window. 

She had lost count, but it had been days since she was captured. Her heart sank with the thought of

what they could do to her. Maybe kill her, or sell her as a slave, all nasty thoughts had crossed her head.

It’s okay, father must have been anxious and desperate for her, he must have already sent a branch of

the military on search. She tried to console herself but it helped none, as the man was already halfway

in the room, her eyes were glued on him, as he carefully placed the plate on a nearby table, his face was

still not visible. Whoever they were, they don’t want to reveal their faces.

There was silence, the only sound in the room was the howling of the wind and the rustling of the trees. 

He placed the lantern beside the plate, and turned around to leave, she mustered up her courage and

parted her lips “Who are you?” so many times she had asked that question but had never once received

an answer. But still, the hope made her do it again. Maybe he gets tired of hearing it and answers it once

and for all.

The man halted in his steps but didn’t turn around as if contemplating to say it out. 

Again the silence consumed them, as the time ticked she was getting impatient. With a sudden wave of

impulse, she dashed to the table and snatched the lantern off the table holding it out up at the guy,

then grabbed his arm to make him face her. 

That was it, the moment when the gleam of the candle hit his face, she stumbled backward and shook a

gasp that left her lips, and her hands slipped down from the grip on his arm. The glass lantern crashed

down breaking into pieces, the room again blinded by the darkness again, but the face she just saw was

still crystal clear to her eyes. 

father.