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Everything was perfect.
Not many believe that the word perfect can be put into physical terms, and yet, it is so easy for me when thinking about how it was. How everything was before my life filled with tragedy and loss began.
I was born into a respected family. I wouldn't say we were wealthy, but we weren't exactly poor either. Our lives were discreet, hidden among so many others in a small town. A town filled with innocents, a town filled with good people. It was small, but not too big. The people were wonderful, yet they still kept their privacy.
Nothing was worth worrying about.
Well...
Not for a young child, at least.
My innocence binded me for so long, that when it came to the point I had to let it go, hell, it almost drove me mad.
I could remember everything so vividly, so beautifully... The smoke that slipped from the chimneys, the warm aroma of steamed rice after a long day of hard work, the small snowflakes that fell from the clouded sky and glided with the breeze before gently gliding and laying themselves on my unbothered form. The magical tinge to the air as the sun shone through the gaps in the grey clouds while my breath became visible in the chilled air. Let's not forget the footprints that crunched in the snow as children chased one another around while others celebrated the cool winters that scoured the town all year-round by building snowmen or crafting snow angels.
The chilled air that nipped at my flesh as the scarf around my neck danced behind me when I cried out in happiness, my brothers and sisters chasing me up the path of our home surrounded by the town. My locks flowing behind me as I watched my mother emerge from the front door, holding my brother in her arms, a soft look in her eyes as she watched us dance around the town.
We were safe. We were satisfied. We were happy. We were free.
That was all we cared about at that moment, and there were no signs, no opportunities, to tell us to do anything different.
That was the problem. There were some, we just refused to see them.
The shadows that lingered longer than they should've. The whispers prancing around town, getting louder with each passing day. The snow that soon became unbearable to a mere child in the mountains. The chilled days that turned insufferable and numbing nights far too quickly.
Maybe we did see them. Maybe we did understand something was going to happen. Maybe I was just too oblivious to understand the warnings sent to us from early on.
