By Emma Lin
It was colorless. Just like it always was. The world’s color seemed to vanish all at once. The dark grey sky hovered over the town as small white flecks began to drop out from them. It was as if the heavens was gifting them with these precious gifts. Soon, the town was covered in a thick layer of snow. The sky’s dark grey color became light. The ground was not visible for a thick white blanket covered everything. Within seconds children got on their thick coats, their little boots that barely managed to fit and their small gloves. Their hats dangled clumsily on their heads as they stubbornly laughed and threw snow at each other. Soon teenagers and adults crept out of their burrows in their comfy houses. Adults shoveled, and tiny figures dragged their wooden sleds up snowy little hills. Little did they know, this joy that was brought to them was the sorrow of someone else. Lisa. Lisa remembered. She remembered everything. The day of her first day, to her very last. Her colorless eyes stared from above in the clouds and watched the joy of those down below. She remembered it all very clearly.
It was a dark 1800’s night; her father didn’t come home yet. The snow was pouring down already. The wind howled for what seemed like for hours. Her little siblings curled up in front of the fireplace. Her mother was pacing in front of the door.
She was coming to her mother’s side and touching her mother’s shoulder. She wrapped her thick jacket around her and moved outside. She was going to find her father. At least she thought she was. For hours, the wind blew against her. Her fingers were white. Her face was red. Her boots were full of snow.
She still never found him. “PAPA!” She remembered yelling. The wind howled back at her. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Her last breath. Her last glance of the world. It was not with her family; it was out in the cold. No color. Only white.