Winter Air [H.S.]

Fourteen

It was a week since the new years eve party. Within that week a snowstorm hit Vancouver covering the city with it's white powder. Everywhere you looked cars were stuck or sliding, people were bundled up in their warmest garments, and shops were closed. The mayer issued a closure of the city until the storm passed. This was okay with all since people did not want to go out and be met with the devil’s snowstorm. It was during this time that Ava had time to recuperate from the past week. 

Her home smelt of cinnamon and icing; she was baking. It had been a while since she was even able to pop some cookies in the oven. With her busy work schedule she never had been able to spend time in front of the oven. To her, the snowstorm wasn’t a curse. Rather it was a blessing in disguise. A time for her to find herself once more. It was the new year and as her new years resolutions suggested, Ava wanted to break down her walls. In order for her to do so, she needed to find herself again. This was what this week would bring - clarity and self discovery. 

“It looks like the storm has hit it’s climax. Snowfall has increased in the lower mainland creating it nearly impossible for anyone to go out. We have issued a continuation in our storm watch. Keep watching for any changes. But for now, stay inside and keep warm! Only go out if necessary.” The television was on discussing the state of outsides weather conditions. It didn’t seem like the storm would be clearing up anytime soon. Lucky for Ava, Mita and Luca gave her a basket full of food to last her until the next week. This limited her need to go outside and fight for survival admist the abyss. 

While her cinnamon buns baked Ava looked through her chest full of novels. Rifling her way through her old children’s books she stumbled upon a light blue book with the words Family written in white. She knew that this was her mother’s old photo album; an album she hadn’t touched in years. 

She carefully lifted the cover and was met with a photograph of her young self. She was sitting on a rocking chair looking to the side, a big smile on her face. The sun was reflecting on her eyes making them look browner than usual. She looked around eight. She looked happy and at peace, a feeling she long forgotten about. Flipping over the page, she saw three smiling faces. A man with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. Beside him stood a woman, her light brown hair flowing down in loose curls. Her smile so big that it took up most of the photograph. In their arms was a two year old girl, wavy brown hair up in a ponytail. It was her and her parents. As she looked at the old photograph she could feel the warm tears slide down her cheeks. It had been a while since she saw a photo of her and her parents. It had been the last photograph that they took as a family before her father’s untimely death. After her mother died she did everything that she could to bury the memories. This started with any photograph of them. It assisted in the construction of her walls. She knew, however, that if she was to grow past the walls, she needed to keep looking at these photos. They were the first step in the right direction. 

“Oh mom dad. If only you were still here.” Her voice quivered as she spoke. The words coming out above a whisper. She trailed her fingers above the photograph lightly as the tears grew stronger. She began to weep. 

Crying had been so foreign to Ava. She had forced herself to not cry. Crying meant weakness and she did not want to appear weak - for her mother and father. She knew that she had to let those feelings of stubbornness flee and to be vulnerable (something that had become so outlandish). 

She cried herself to sleep that night. Though as she cried her heart began to mend. The tears did not bring more sorrow but brought the healing that she so desperately needed. The feeling of the pieces of her heart beginning to fit back together. Her parents had been her rock. Throughout her childhood bullying and the heartbreaking breakup from her first (and only) high school romance, her parents gave her the courage to live. If it hadn’t been for their constant words of encouragement and support, she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to be who she was today. They had shaped her into being a fighter, a woman of courage and strength. Except the moment they left this earth all of their hard work died with them. Instead of continuing on to be a woman of courage and strength, she became fragile and cold hearted.