Post by 'Angie' Elisaveta on May 18, 2016 10:57:16 GMT
The today I chose is ordinary,
and it's about to crumble.
A white blanket, pure and serene, set the stage for snowmen and snow angels. Somewhere, a man who has never seen snow reunites with his inner-child, excitedly imprinting on the ground a memorable first step. On a pond beside a house, a Mother and Father teaches their children how to skate, a heartfelt lesson that would lead to many more enjoyable winters to come, maybe even to a tradition of their children teaching their children, and those children theirs, generations all on that very same pond. Back indoors, love-filled presents everywhere were tenderly unwrapped. A grandmother’s heart swells with joy at the sight of her grandchildren’s smiles, their happiness of which reflected in her own upturned-lips, as wrinkled as they may be. And finally, under mistletoe, two lovers share a heartfelt kiss.
Christmas was special for not only all of the reasons listed above, but also because it reminded a certain someone of home. It reminded Angie of where she came from, of Russia. Bittersweet memories came back to her, like letters slipped under a door. She was reminded of the sight of her father’s back as he tended the fire; of the many times they melted ice in pots and pans. She even remembered the not-so-fleeting memory of her as a kid being treated by him for some minor frostbite, a shard of her past from all the way back when she was about seven years old. But above all, if she wrapped herself up with blankets in just the right way, it reminded of when she and her father hugged each other to sleep. She could trick herself into thinking that he was right there, right next to her, sleeping by her side instead of six feet under for no good reason.
Letting out a small sigh, Angie tried to enjoy the peacefulness of it all. She sat by herself on a wooden bench with a white scarf wrapped around her neck, a newspaper on her lap and a flask of coffee by her side. A small shrine was somewhere behind her, slowly being enveloped by the oncoming of dusk, and she gazed from her seat at the top of the hill little silhouettes of light coming out from hundreds of windows.
To say that things were rough prior to her enrollment into Hope’s Peak was an understatement and a half, and she had no faith in this turbulent trend ending in the years to come. Her heart had yet to be soothed by the promise that this school boasts, their tagline of guaranteeing a successful life for any and all graduates. Curling her fingers around the tip of her scarf, she pulled it gently upwards to cover her mouth and nose. Her gaze too turned upwards to the heavens high above, and she let herself get lost in the countless stars and their blessed maze. Slowly, she closed her eyes and drew the curtains shut, basking in the silence of the night. In that moment, it felt as if she had disappeared from the world, or that the world had disappeared from her. The sound of a faraway car broke that illusion, zooming off and leaving behind a reminder of reality.
Seeing as how she was sitting there in silence with the shrine somewhere behind, now hidden in darkness, it could have very well been that she was praying. Her heart and soul may have been tenderly tending the flickering flame of hope, keeping it safe from all the hazards in the world that would wish to destroy it. As she might have very well been praying, she decided to take it a step further and part a silent wish from her lips, a small but genuine plea to whoever may have been listening up above.
'Please, grant me peace in the days and years to come. Let my future be a bright one.'
Angie wrapped her arms around herself, curling inwards to the sound of crumpling newspaper. A painful pit formed inside of her. Choking tears broke through. It was hard to breathe. She begged, one last time,
'Please.'
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