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A Frozen Dream {Short Story}

Snow rests upon the ground in a thin white sheet, as if it were a soft feather cushion covering the grass and pavement below. The afternoon sky overhead was grey with clouds, everything a muted shade of its normal color. The crisp cold air bit at my nose and cheeks as I trudged through the ghost town, a dead silence hanging in the air besides the crunching of my boots in the snow.

My feet lead me along a frozen path until I came upon a building in ruins. It was fairly large, and in its prime it must've been a beautiful sight to behold. Extending a glove-covered hand, I gently press on the rich dark wood of the door. A loud creak echoes throughout the abandoned building as the door cracks open, allowing me to peak my head in before fully stepping inside.

I could feel no change in temperature as my eyes scan the long corridor curiously, a hand delicately placed on the camera hanging my neck. Small holes filled the tall roof above, patches of icy white littering the cold marble floors while faded pictures and art hung upon the walls.

I slowly begin to stride along the silent halls of the once magnificent structure, observing my surroundings carefully while the clack of my leather shoes resonates around me. My chest feels tight with nostalgia, taking more notice of how I walked out of sync. Like I was about to stumble with every step I took.

Soon I find myself at another set of large doors that seem to loom above me. I stare at the smooth aged wood for a moment, my chapped lips parted as white puffs escaped my mouth like smoke. I raise both of my shaky palms up, pressing on the frosted door until it started to open.

A loud squeak filled my ears as the door reluctantly opens, taking one step inside before my entire body froze like the perfect white around me.

Rows upon rows of chairs laid before me, dust and snow collecting on them as narrow walkways separate them from each other. At the very end of the room was a spectacular stage, the heavy curtains pulled back to reveal the polished floors covered in a fine layer of ice due to the giant crater in the roof.

My glossy eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights, thrown back in time to the days of silk ribbons and soundless words. Nights of dancing in the silvered moonlight, perfecting my art. But my time performing for the diamond waves came to an end far too soon for my liking. Now it was all just frozen dreams upon a platform.

Golden roses of light suddenly poured in from the cavity in the ceiling above my standing form, snapping me out of my nostalgic thoughts. I watch in awe as snowflakes danced in the light, each unique in size and shape. A choreographed dance instructed by the cutting breath of mother nature. A shimmering rainbow reflected off the pure snow, bringing tears to my eyes as I stand there reminiscing in my frozen dreams. I could almost see the ghost of my past self dancing among the white puffs.

Performing art for the world was my passion in life, a skill I fine-tuned at an early age. There was nothing I would've rather done than dance and flow to the enchanting melody of the music. Yet life was cruel to me, and enabled me from doing what I loved most. But after years of grief, I moved on. Found a new passion that brings me joy. I capture art and the beauty of the world instead of performing it; as they say, when one door closes another one opens.

I sniffle a tad, rubbing my cold pink nose with one mitten-covered hand while the other wiped the tears forming in the corners of my eyes," Oh god, I'm an emotional mess..." I murmur quietly to myself, grabbing the camera around my neck and raising it up. With a small click of my camera, I capture my frozen dreams for all to see.

Satisfied with the natural beauty of the photo I took, I turn my heel and begin to tread back from whence I came. Leaving my frozen dreams upon a forgotten stage.