Noveller og korte tekster

The secrets of the snow

The snow fell down quietly and joined the rest of the layers of snow covering the ground. She could feel the wind barely touch her where she stood. Darkness had surrounded her quickly as the night came. It felt like she had been running for hours. The calling from different known voices got drowned out by the trees. They would have catched her sooner if it wasn't for the trees that blocked out the sun and shielded her from being seen. The fake leg couldn't carry her much further than this.

Running away was a desire, but quickly it turned out to be real. There was never any plan that came with it. The fight they had gotten too much and all the words feeling much more harsher that she reacted with one instinct, running. Running until she was okay, until the pain would go away, running until she felt at home again. If that was possible. She only knew the one outside the woods, or was it only a place she lived by rules created by everybody else but her. Was it the leg? Most certainly, no other kids were treated as she was. Those who got to come near were terrified to hurt her, and most didn't know she existed. She would be kept hidden, why, who even knows. In the years she was in her room she would never understand why. Her mother was strict but seemed to care in her own way, The father, he died in a snowstorm. 
She had been thinking it was because of embarrassment. It could be a part of it, but she was sure there was something much more than that. Late nights up had revealed words of danger and loss, with her name in the same sentence. 

The stone feels cold like ice when she sits down. She shivers and tries to close her eyes just to shut everything out. Her whole body feels paralysed as she curls up into a little ball. If her legs could carry her she could get back there. There was a possibility, but no will. Even the thought of it scared her. The closed doors, lonely nights, it would never feel like home.

Small white crystals buries her as she lets the snow surround her. She looks at the sky and it feels like the moon is smiling back to her. Warm tears run down her face and fall into the snow as if they were never there. Disappear like her, only her body will be found in the summer, with her tears being gone so noeone will know they ever were shed. 

Her eyes close as she loses consciousness. Her hand slides from her chest and she feels something cold touch her. With a shock she quickly jumps up. As she looks closer she sees a hand sticking out of where she laid. Panicking she starts digging in the snow in hopes of finding more than just an ice cold hand. Beneath all the snow she finds a face of a little girl buried deep into the snow. Her face is ice cold, but it almost looks like she sleeps peacefully. Her face feels lifeless in my hand. Shouldn't she be feeling uncomfortable touching a dead body. She should be, but her hand lays on her chin naturally. How long the little girl had been laying there was questionable. She checks her heartbeat but with no sign of life. 

In hopes of advice she turns to the trees, but no answer is heard. They stand there only to watch, until the day the storm decides their destiny for them. The trees remind her of herself, but less lonely. Even though they both only get to watch from how far they reach, and her as far as her window shows her. Still, they always have each other. Then when it comes to her, she was supposed to be lonely forever. 

In a moment of anger she kicks the snow. So many years alone felt like someone had taken her whole childhood. Again she kicks the snow, punches it for every year of being alone. Screams to it for taking her father, her leg, and for leaving here. She used to be thankful for the snow, it saved her life. But she never asked the damn snow to save her. All she wanted was to escape the loneliness, never to see it again. 

Her foot stops and she feels a little pain in her foot. Still she hit no stone. In front of her was a face of a little girl. Just as lifeless as the other. Looking at her and the other little girl they both seem so familiar. In still a little shock, she starts digging up all the snow. Another known face appears, still she can't put her finger on it. 

Every face she keeps digging up is as lifeless as the other. Every little girl is the same age, with the same similarities to her father. They keep appearing as she digs them up. Every single one of them is frozen cold as if they all died here in the cold yesterday or later. She could not remember a single poster of a missing girl. Nobody seemed to be looking for them even though their bodies were whole. How long did it take to rot in the snow? Did they ever? 

She studies each face, all feels familiar. She just didn't know from where. Every single one had dads black hair. From where had she seen them? The only ones she had known or seen was the kids playing outside, and none of them looked like these. 
The thought bothers her as she tries to remember every single girl she has ever seen, until she realizes that every single face comes from the same fotoalbum. Dads fotoalbum mom had locked up. She could remember when she had snuck down to the kitchen since she couldn't sleep, and her mother had forgotten it on the kitchen table. In it she found pictures of little girls but never saw a picture of them grown up. Most of them died many years ago, the dead bodies here died years ago. 

In an act of fear she takes a step back. She could see every single one of them running around like in the photo albums. The worst thing about it, she was exactly at their age when the accident happened. It wasn't until now that she realised, this is exactly where she almost died. She should have been dead years ago. Her father, he should have been alive. He gave his own for her to live. Still, she came here and lied down together with all the others before her. Why did nobody ever get the bodies. How could they let them lie here to rot. Even though they never did rot. 

She starts kicking the snow again, searches until she can find him. He was here somewhere, he must be here. If they never took their bodies, why would they get his. Did she attend a funeral for an empty grave? Frustration and tears drown her in the search of an answer. Until she sees a familiar face in the snow. 

Her fathers face stares back at her, and she realizes that she wishes to have never found him. 

Gjerne si ifra hvis du ikke kan engelsk veldig godt og vil ha den oversatt til norsk. Dette er engelsk tentarmen min så.