Snow

I was watching snow fall last year and this sprung into my mind. My first short story. Enjoy.

     Standing in the doorway of her house, a girl sees soft, miniscule snowflakes falling from the heavens.
     Stepping onto the concrete just outside the door would make her bare feet cold. The whispers of wind would push the flakes towards her bare arms and legs. Her short black dress is covered in no time at all with tiny white pinpricks of cold. Throwing her arms out, she enjoys the cold and the tiny specks. Her long lashes are dotted with white and her eyes gaze infinitely up towards the snowflakes' home clouds. Imagining herself as a snowflake is not hard, she spins, twirls, and leaps along with her frozen brethren, but they do not accept her. She reaches out to embrace them, but they shy away from her inner warmth that would mean their destruction. She realizes that her brethren are not truly her brethren. They dance their own dance, one she will never know. She stops moving, standing still as she contemplates why she is drawn to the snowflakes she will never be with. A rush of cold air attacks her from a different angle, carrying with it harsher snowflakes. These snowflakes are not content with lazily dancing and drifting downwards, these new flakes are more violent than the ones she loves and longs to be one of. The new snowflakes swarm her, not afraid of dying from her warmth. They bite her, her arms, legs, feet, and face, leaving small red scratch marks from their cruel claws and teeth before melting against her skin. She doesn't understand these new flakes and why they attack her. She runs to escape them, but they are everywhere, stinging, biting, clawing at her skin. And just when she thinks she can take no more, the harsh snowflakes fall to her feet and once more the lazy flakes dance in the air. She cries, demanding to know where her brethren were while she was mauled by their evil cousins, but they do not answer her. The salt from her tears sting her cheeks, reminding her that at any moment the vicious snowflakes could return and maul her again. She rejects those she thought were once her brethren and runs towards safety. Something strikes her and she flinches, falling to land among her ruined would-be attackers and brethren alike. Something else strikes her, but it does not bite. Instead it soothes her. This new thing is not as cold as her snowflakes and it is liquid. Raindrops fall here and there, sometimes landing on her. The rain is by no means warm, but it is warmer than those who ignored and assailed her. She looks up and sees the clouds moving away. They part and a bright light shines down upon the girl. She finally realizes why she cannot be one of the lazy flakes and stands. She is warm and bright and glowing. She is their sun. They fear her even though she loves them. She smiles and twirls once more.
     People call to the girl to come away from the open door and she does, hiding the secret of her snowflakes and her warmth in her heart.