Snowflakes fell silently and slowly towards the heavily overgrown forest. They made no effort in reaching the ground, as if they knew what was about to happen and wanted no part in it. The night sky was cold and dark, no moon or stars could shine through the snow filled clouds. When a snowflake would reach a branch, it would sit as still as possible, hoping not to fall any further. Under the white and frozen leaves stood a little boy, no older than seven. His dark hair faded into the background of the landscape and his ocean blue eyes did nothing but. His eyes normally glowed with pleasure and curiosity, but now they were cold and confused. He didn't have a coat, nor a scarf nor gloves. The only thing struggling to keep him warm was a sweater that was too big for him. The little boy couldn't remember who gave him that sweater, or how and why he was standing alone in the freezing forest. The only thing he that crossed his mind was that he wanted to go home, back to his mother. Somehow he knew that even if he got out of the forest, he wouldn't be able to see her.
"She's gone" a heavy male voice had told him.
Who did that voice belong to? It had been a kind man, that much he could remember. He couldn't recall a face. Why couldn't he focus on anything else but the cold and the sweet smile of his mother? Snow started to cover his feet and hair. All the leaves had left their branches a few weeks earlier, giving the little boy no coverage of the snow, now falling heavier than before. It would be a cold night, colder than usual. The small boy couldn't have known that. Even if he did, there was nothing he could do about it. Slowly the coldness began to fade, and he started to feel tired. His legs would no longer support his body and he had to sit down on the frozen ground. The snow made a soft crackle as he did. He tucked his knees under his chin, trying to keep the little warmth that was left close to him. He looked around. The only thing he could see was snow and trees. He thought he saw some lights in the distance. His eyes didn't seem to focus on it. Every few minutes his eye lids would close, only to open again short after. The little boy couldn't fight his sleepiness anymore. He didn't feel the cold, he could barely feel anything. He closed his eyes and thought of his mother gently kissing his head, whispering that it would be alright. A soft smile spread across his face, and he finally fell asleep. His mother being the last thought he would ever have.
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Snow
General Fiction"Even whispers have shadows..." At 27, Katherine White was about as average as any woman, or man, her age. Living alone in a small apartment outside the big city, her golden retriever was her only company. Work was boring, her social life almost no...
