The sound of scared footsteps

Red shoes with holes in. She threads carefully through deep snow, getting colder and colder. She just has a thin jacket that does little to keep the cold wind at bay. Shuddering she walks on, as fast as she can. She can see a house in front of her, with warm inviting lights. But she doesn’t know if they will let her in, and she doesn’t know if she even wants to be there. She looks up, as if the answers can be found among the falling snowflakes. Is there a God, and will he protect her? Will she encounter a person that gives her a warm hug or a person with clenched fists, ready to strike. She only knows that she barely escaped from a nightmare where freezing was a luxury. She barely survived. One fearful step after another. She gets closer, but some part of her want to turn around and run away. Some part of her, want to lie down and never wake up. The white snow would make a beautiful grave, she would be an ice princess. But she takes another step forward, snow slowly filling her shoes and numbing her. Now she is physicality numb as well as psycholgi cally. Slowly she reaches the house. The snowflakes muffle the silent sounds of her numb, beating heart. She knows she’s afraid of what will be behind that door, but puts a wall between anxiety and her so she doesn’t have to feel it. With hands blue from the cold, she knocks.  

 

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