Short Stories - {for Contests}

Winter Anthology

The cold, ruthless wind whipped around him. It was white and nothing but white for miles. He couldn't feel his face and he squinted, as tears ran from his eyes. He tucked his gloved hands in his arms as he took a heavy, booted foot out of the knee-deep snow and put it in front of the other foot. He had a long way to go and the deep snow he had to thread too didn't make it any easier.

Everyone had been advised to stay home. Temperatures had dropped and the entire world was experiencing a blizzard that never seemed to end. It was worse for the tropical countries. They didn't know how to deal with this type of weather. Many had been completely wiped out. People froze to death on the first day. In the north though, they were more used to this cold weather which made it easier to keep everyone safe. But it also made it harder to make anyone take the warnings seriously. Many went outside, thinking they would be fine, but not a lot of people made it back inside. 

For Aston, his situation was different. He had to go outside. He had to find the switch and stop everything. He pulled the hood of his jacket more securely over his head and tried to go faster. He could feel the cold seeping into his gloves and his boots, even though they were made from a special material. He didn't have much time, it was getting colder. 

It was not long before Aston's hands and feet were numb. He couldn't feel himself walking. But he kept going. The snow fell lightly from the sky but each flake that landed on his copper skin stung his already frozen face. He dragged his feet through the snow, not being able to lift them anymore. 

Soon he could see it in the distance. A small house, barely visible under the snow that covered it. There was nothing else around, making it look out of the place. A flower in a desert.

He continued walking towards it. He was so close. He climbed onto the patio. He could hear his boots scrape the wood. Even though his feet were numb, it felt weird to be on solid ground again.

It took all of his strength to shuffle towards the door and knock on it. He slid down to the ground and he laid there, the snow piling up on his body, waiting for an answer. He could not move. He tried to lift himself to knock again but his arms were dead.

After a while, he heard the door open. "I need some help here," a woman said. Through his blurred vision, he could see her cupping her mouth to call out behind her. After a few moments, Aston could feel hands grabbing his arms and legs. 

He woke up inside the house. A thick blanket was draped over his body. He blinked as he looked around the room he was in. He laid on a couch and in front of him was a television. He could see a doorway to what looked like a kitchen and he could hear faint shuffling coming from it. He slowly sat up on his elbows. Then someone came from the kitchen as if they heard him get up. 

"Aston," the woman said. "I didn't know if you were still alive." She came closer and he could see her face more clearly as the light that hung above him cast a golden glow on her dark skin. She lowered her head and her tight curls covered her face. "Many of our people didn't make it."

"I planned to come after people started dying but they told everyone to stay inside and I didn't think I would make it," Aston said. "But I started to run out of food and the storm never stopped so I knew I wouldn't survive if I stayed."

"A lot of people have run out of food." She tucked her curls behind her ears and crossed her arms. 

"You still have food, right?"

"I stocked up. I knew it was coming."

"But no one believed you." Aston swung his legs from off the couch, pulling the blanket off of him. The woman tilted her head to the side as she looked at him.