𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝟐𝟓. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

While reading her entry I was shocked, I had seen darkness before, the kind that made our street like an old fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey. That wasn't like that. That was the darkness that robbed you of your best sense and replaced it with a paralysing fear.

He was carrying the darkness in him, or better, he was the darkness itself. Aunt Grace was a toy in the hands of that sinister man, now I could finally understand why she feared for her life.

My mind couldn't possibly understand him. I couldn't understand why he did all those horrendous things. How could he be cold hearted while showing love to aunt Grace. She said he was a light that was brought into Snowshill and suddenly he turned into the monster that was eating souls, that was destroying people's lives.

He was everything my aunt loved and everything she despised and loathed. He filled her with emotions that she had never experienced before, a deep strong love but a bigger and stronger hate.

He was going downstairs with the knife, always ready to kill her if something was to happen but why, why did the baby stop him? He couldn't possibly have any feelings about that baby, he couldn't possibly love it yet, it was as if he wanted to protect it. He said to her that everything would be better, what did he mean by that? I wondered if he had some kind of plan for her and the baby. After all, he had claimed that he loved her but maybe he actually did, in his own twisted way. He didn't know how to love properly.

Aunt Grace grieved on the inside, but believed that she hid her sorrow from everyone. She was one of those people that anyone could read easily. One could see it in her eyes, her movements, her drooping posture. However, no one dared mention it to her. She tried hiding her feelings for as long as possible.

It took years to gain freedom but took only a few seconds to lose it. She lost her freedom in a split of a second, yet she was stuck inside, locked away from freedom. I knew for a fact that happiness could seem so far away, yet right outside the window. Then she was finally free from the prison of thick brambles and deadly thorns which she planted on herself. She was free from an evil so thick, she couldn't control it.

I turned my gaze and looked at Alice, she was still sleeping next to me on her bed, she had the same peaceful expression as she had the night before. I slowly got up from my bed and as soon as my feet touched the cold pavement chills spread in all over my body. I walked until the old carpet where I felt again some warmth.

I approached the very same window from which I saw the bridge on fire. I opened the window and inhaled the crisp, cool air. Snow. The picture of the snow melted into my head. The first flakes had fallen. Sticking out my tongue like a little child, I quickly run downstairs, opened the front door and watched the denuded forms of the trees that were standing starkly against the snow. Upon the limbs that not long ago were adorned with the vibrant colors of autumn laid an unblemished white layer. The snow flakes were settled down into a white glimmering blanket.

It was eight in the morning. I had woken up very early, I had all the day in front of me to do everything I was planning to. I decided for one time to actually cook for Alice. I wanted to "fix" this between us, after the whole event at Jenny's house. The only thing I hoped was that Jenny wouldn't dare come to our house again. I wasn't sure what I would do if I saw her once again.

One hour later, I heard light footsteps echoing in the house. Alice was coming down, as soon as she saw me, a big bright sleepy smile formed on her face as she gasped in surprise.

"What's the big occasion?" she asked with a suspicious yet smiling face.

"Nothing in particular, we are celebrating our stay here in Snowshill," I answered and sat down in the huge mahogany table, waving her to come and sit.

Alice approached the table, sat down and immediately started eating. I was looking at her and her face was lighting up every minute. Life was going to be better, everything was going to come to an end sooner or later.

"Check outside," I murmured.

She had a look full of suspicion, but when she got up, she started screaming in the sight of the snow. Her face had a continuous glow. Today I would dedicate at least half of my day to Alice, I wanted this. I needed this. Without caring that it was frigid, we run and twirled in the garden, the white rain from the heavens fell faster and faster, almost mimicking our joyful twirling. The flakes were settled and we laid down to enjoy the soft frosty bed.

They say we live in the moment, that the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future we dream. I was happy to simply walk in the snow, create a few footprints of my own.

The garden looked like an unfinished painting, so much of the canvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artist's hand to return. The morning light struggled through the murky cloud, but even in its weakness it was enough to blind. The air was of course cold but we didn't care. We were just living in the moment.

The snow hugged the house like a baby, new and clingy. How odd it was to look at that view, so familiar and yet so different. That dark enormous house that was giving me bad vibes, was now a white cloud ready to fly. It really felt that the house wasn't even touching the ground. The snow alighted on my face softer than the kisses my mother used to plant, and just as cold as the memories that had returned, but life was pulling me forward into the unknown on one hand and erasing my past with the other.

Alice enjoyed everything about this kind of weather. The satisfaction of being the first to make an impression in a blanket of freshly laid snow. The sight of low hanging shafts of sunlight illuminating the sparkling whitened the scene before her. Her face was the happiest I had ever seen, I was just hoping that this moment could last forever. Our happiness.

Happiness was exactly what I needed at that time. Our mum was gone, our aunt was gone and our father was lost in his own world. It was time to turn to a new page. For a minute I regretted opening that diary and reading it, it had only caused me problems and nothing else but this was something I had finish. I started and I would finish it. I could feel the end approaching us with its promising fingers for a new adventure.