Filicide

2(a) - Taiga

Cold.

The cold bit into my skin as my eyes readjusted to my surroundings. Tiny snowflakes like microscopic shurikens sliced at my arm without injuring me, at most simply making me colder. I couldn't see. What I could see was covered by a blizzard that zipped past my eyes and swirled in a freezing inferno. But this path was familiar to me. I could not see, but I could feel, touch, taste, smell. It seemed my vision was the only thing hindered by this storm.

Without struggle I walked lightly across the snow, hands wrapped around myself to sustain some warmth. I was not worried about death in this place, even as the icy storm swirled and danced. I could not die here, no matter the circumstance. It was nothing but a dream.

I carried myself over the snow, walking under snow-ridden conifers that towered into the unseen clouds. Wind whipped past me and my hair flopped into my face multiple times. Still I pushed on.

Finally, what seemed to be a wall came into view. Not quite a physical wall, really. Just a barrier, where the snow barely dared to cross. There was grass - dry, dying grass that withered in the biting cold, but grass nonetheless. I smiled to myself, bringing my energy together to run at full speed and burst through the wall of snowfall.

I stumbled a few feet forwards, grass under the shoes I now wore crunching a little as I crushed it. There was no more wind, no more snow. As if the world was a hurricane, and I stood in its eye, calm amidst the center of chaos.

In this eye was a perfect, circular area. Conifers surrounded the place, their green needles barely rustling in a still, slightly warming breeze. The sun did not shine through dark, grey clouds, and the clearing was filled with a thick mist that parted slightly as I made my way to the center. The center contained a playground. A slide, a swing set, and a small pond took up this area, and eventually I walked on a manmade path of dirt that started abruptly in the middle. It was similar to a puzzle piece, in my eyes. Someone had taken the playground from its set and put it into this one, and fit it where it best fit, even though the rest of the puzzle didn't quite match.

The playground was not empty. Under the swing set were two children, a boy and a girl. The girl had dark hair like mine, and the boy had blonde hair. The blonde-haired boy was on the ground with his knees to his chest, face buried in his pale arms. The girl was kneeling next to him, mostly seeming concerned for him. Her eyes shifted over to me as I came closer, an almost watery consistency wavering in the blue of her irises. Similarly, water dripped down her face like tears from her eyes, tiny waterfalls down her cheeks. As she got up, her entire face became visible to me, and it was then that it could be seen the absence of a mouth beneath her nose - there was nothing but flat, pale skin that almost looked sickly. The color of death. The girl brushed some mulch off of her black leggings and met me a few feet from the upset child's place.

I spoke first, something uncharacteristic of me anywhere else. "Is something wrong, Marina?"

The girl, Marina's, eyes seemed sad, only adding to the tearlike waterflow down her face. She spoke normally, as if there was, indeed, a mouth on her face. "Tristan had a vision. I think it's what he's been anxious about."

"A vision?" I knew it wasn't quite abnormal for Tristan to have a vision, for past actions he'd experienced sometimes return to haunt him. It was upsetting to me, really. He was barely five, he shouldn't have such dark memories. However, if Marina was telling me about it, it must be something else.

Marina nodded. She seemed on edge, her small body almost timid. With her being the more extroverted, cheerful type, this was concerning. I followed her over to where Tristan sat, across the slightly cushioned wood mulch and to where he sat under a broken swing. It was his crying place, in a way - he always sat there when something was upsetting him.