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Winter, 1921
SPRING WAS YET TO COME.
The solitary woods had become more lifeless, covering its joyful side under the thick snow, like the longing desire buried deep inside my heart. I couldn't wait for the spring to come and break the ice in my heart and turn it into a petal. The sun's rays cannot reach to spread its warmth and the longing desire stays within me.
The vivid imagination of something kept me awake every night and my soul, to touch the love of eternity. I couldn't find warmth anymore. If mother was alive, she would have brought it with her. Without her, the sun doesn't shine anymore, the winter doesn't feel like fun anymore and spring doesn't bring joy anymore.
My wait was worthless, but the pain was something which made me crave it more each and every day. Watching the snow standing in front of my wooden window was something I did every day now, as if I'd been wishing to wash away all the pain once the ice starts to melt.
I did not hope for anything now, other than bringing happiness to my people who are also suffering with me. I couldn't watch my pack shatter in front of my own eyes, my own people, to look at me in disappointment.
I wanted spring to come sooner this time. So it can melt the ice and bloom happiness.
The old clock hanging on the wall, barely keeping the strength to move. I knew it was broken long ago but I didn't complain about it. My room had become darker, more creaks on the wall and the dust here and there reminded me of its bad condition. The suffocation made me feel sick, each passing day, it became worse. In the nights I would feel the cold biting me angrily, making me unable to sleep.
Eyes wide awake, sitting on my bed, feeling the cold floor beneath my feet, shivering with loneliness, I would cry often silently. Maybe this was one of the reasons why they thought I was not the right one, because they could see through me, they could see my pain, hiding underneath my forced smile.
Days would pass like this but the pain wouldn't go, my surroundings kept me incarcerated within the four walls. Touching the frozen glass with my fingertips to feel the coldness against my skin, I would stand there.
The fading sun rays of the sun, the dark shades covering the blue sky was the signal that it was time, time to say another goodbye. The feeling of seeing the dry leaves falling on the ground from the branches. But it had become a habit, a habit to smile through the pain and allow yourself to forget the memories once you had with them.
The low murmurs from downstairs, the footsteps, it was about time. Looking through the window once again I turned around to leave my room.
The floor beneath my feet felt cold. I didn't care to wear my shoes or any slippers while I'm at home. If I was an ordinary human I could have caught a cold by now but the temperature of my body keeps me warm, no matter how cold it is, but not to the exact degree. If we have an advantage of something we should not take it too lightly, sometimes that could become our weakness.
