Even The Snow Can Burn | Teen Ink

Even The Snow Can Burn

May 29, 2014
By CasandraWest SILVER, Wentzville, Missouri
CasandraWest SILVER, Wentzville, Missouri
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"imagination is the beginning of creation" -George Bernard Shaw


My eyes were closed, but I was still able to feel the light trying to push through my lids. So many things about this place have haunted me for almost five years, and every time its the same thing. Sometimes I have even wondered to myself, why I would do this to myself? why I wasn't able to let it go? As much as I wish I could, I would have always came here at least once a year. I remembered it like it was a dream I escaped from, though I could still feel all the emotions rushing to the surface. I had forgotten that I was outside, far from home, down the main roads. I walked all the way to the second trail that ran through Stone Meadows, alone. The bridge I used to fish on was nothing but a curved cloud of snow, with the water beneath it frozen like a glass mirror. The trees had lost their character, with their identities stolen, even the bark had faded.




Looking around I finally noticed all the evergreen trees and how boldly they contrasted with the snow. The grass hid under its white mask, leaving the land stripped of color. The trees I used to climb had all tightened their bark only to sleep for the winter season. The last time I had been here was in the summertime when the plants had just freshly awakened from their long sleep. I remember, because its the biggest reason I keep coming back to this same spot, where I am now, the same place that I was five years ago. This is where I started to become who I am now.


As I cross the bridge I started to feel some kind of force coming from my brain telling me to turn around, but my heart pushing me forward was stronger. I had been here at least 60 times, and every-time I come here the pain is stronger than the last. It was like going to the grave of a loved one you lost; you never really feel the pain until you walk towards the implanted stone and take a breath to read it. You never really feel how much pain you have until you walk away from the grave; it’s just a reminder of what you had.


Small snowflakes crawled from the sky, falling to their deaths on the ground beneath me. The water under the bridge had frozen in time, becoming a mirror. It gracefully allowed me to see myself, and as a mirror it showed me my flaws.The birds had all fled for warmer grounds, the animals mostly in hibernation, leaving the forest silent. Strange being in a forest without the sounds of life. The sound of nothing, having complete silence in a forest full of snow, an area that’s completely isolated. The only sound that was given was the crunching of the snow beneath my feet; however, I again hear nothing when I stop walking.


I followed a skinny path where there is only snow, where it lead me to the aged paper tree that cascaded over the frozen waters. This is where I last saw him, the boy that treated me like nothing, when I fell, too foolish to leave, because I was afraid to be alone. In the moment that happened in past, My life changed. This is the spot that he took me to break off the relationship; the tree stood above and listened to my weeping. The same year I lost my grandma to stomach cancer. My family and I sat at her deathbed, forced to watch as she slowly suffered, until she left this world. The instant she left, she forgot everything she knew of this life.



Sometimes I wish I was able to just turn it off, turn off all the emotions and just let myself become consumed by the monster I've become, to have the feelings erased. Life would seem easier, I wouldn't have any emotions to carry. You would be amazed by how many things you would have cared about, that could pass by you like a season.


Looking up at the old tree I am able to tell what its been through, how its hyphenate paper-like bark has stretched across its frame, making a cocoon around its body. And unlike the other tree’s, its skin has faded to a washed grey, similar to a elderly woman’s silver strands of hair. I put my hand on the tree’s bark and close my eyes, and think of everything I could have done differently, of how many outcomes this could have had. And for a minute I can almost see what the woods looked like when the sun was out making the grass glow green. It made me smile, and I almost wanted to cry, but I've cried so much that I can’t anymore.
As I doze off into my trance the blood started to slow in my fingertips and toes.
I opened my eyes again and brushed a little snow from the face of the tree, the frozen crystals
instantly turned to water in my palm. My throat turned dry, like it was coated in powder. The air coming through my nose opened the passage leading to my mouth, making the condition worse. Looking down at my finger’s, I could already see them starting to discolor. I could feel myself slowly beginning to lose nerve tractions on all my limbs as they were engulfed by numbness. With it and excruciating pain sprung from my brain, telling me that my fingers have been cut off from the rest of my body.

I wasn’t ready to go home, but I knew it was time, and I had a sense of hope that this would be my last visit to this place. I struggled to swallow, but my spit had already turned to foam from the cold air inhalants. My throat begged for some kind of liquid to ease the pain that cracked through my mouth. I had no choice but to eat some of the untouched snow. I lift my hand to my mouth and I was able to smell the old bark on the tree; it smelled like a dying fire, the scent of it danced on my tastebuds. This tree has seen my pain, and although it could not give me a silver lining, it watched me, as I suffered in my own torment alone. I barely gave this tree my attention, yet I sat at its twisted roots and let myself become consumed by my own thoughts. A human could never know the things nature has seen. But like most things in life, people aren't meant to know some of the little things.


Everything about this place reminds me of all my sorrows; when I came here after I lost my grandma, when my boyfriend committed suicide when my last boyfriend dumped me because I wasn't good enough. Everything about this place reminds me of why I am the way I am now, from the very beginning what makes me what I am today. I feel all of the emotions at once as they all come rushing back to me. Sometimes I cry, but the more I go the less pain I feel when I leave. Some people would wonder why I keep coming here to feel the same pain over and over again, but I guess its just me making sure I still have a heart to feel.


The author's comments:
When I was younger I would always go to this place to get rid of all the bad memories I had. I never understood why I would always go to the same place, but eventually it helped me enough to where I didn't need to go there anymore.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.