Through Winter's Voice
Description
“Winter… came in the form of a voice, a voice that saved me from myself four years ago when I was about to end my own life. Winter was my savior,” I stalled for a bit, thinking to myself how happy I was to finally find that someone who perfectly resembled everything I felt.
“Winter is my warmth.” The sentence sounded so sure, so real and full of genuineness.
For: Out of the Box Writing Competition
Length: Nine Chapters
Song inspiration: Safe and Sound — Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars
Prompt(s):
1. “When I was on the very brink of insanity, you were the only one who noticed. But what I didn’t know was that you, the person who saved me, would be the very person to destroy me.”
(Taken from Sky is the Limit AFF writing competition)
2. “Winter must be cold for someone with no warm memories.”
(Taken from the movie An Affair to Remember; courtesy of the contest)
Just to make things clear, the first eight chapters are past events; narrated recollections of what happened before the event in the foreword which you’d eventually find in the last chapter. I know how vague this story may be, but any questions will be answered at the end of the competition.
I hope you’d have a good time reading this humble work of fiction; may you all find warmth in your winters.
© Achailee
Foreword
My foot hangs from the edge of the bed, and the air found its way into my suspended foot, deliriously sending chills into my system, a great contrast to the warm feeling I have on my upper body covered with wool coat. All the windows in this little shack I call home are closed, but the door to my right stood ajar.
I gulp, a warm feeling of familiarity wind its way into my mind. I was suddenly reminded of all the possible scenes that can happen if I am to scoot closer to that doorway. Thoughts blurred my vision, but I shook it from my head, standing quickly to close the door. I hug an arm to the other, slowly feeling the chill from the outside as I neared my destination.
A hand gripped mine just as I was about to push the door close.
I am trapped in the deliriously icy grip of the person on the other side. A hiss came, followed by the raspy voice of my visitor. “It’s time.”
I stayed still, not moving an inch with my heart hammering in my cold rib.
“Come…” came his plead, and it took me all my might not to close the door to its frame. The better part of my exhausted brain shouts at me, sending my thoughts jumbled and into a pool of mess. I want to nudge that door a little more, to forget about the person on the other side, to put an end on everything.
But—
My usual response assaulted him, and I was left to wonder if I’d ever break free from these chains I imposed on myself whenever I declare these words, “Where to now?”
He eases himself in my dwelling place, the same exhaustion and gratitude evident in his face.
“Thank you.”
Winter came, and I surrender once more.
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