Winters night

The whole world seemed dark and foreboding underneath the winter sky. Naked trees swayed around in the chilly breeze welcoming the gentle falling of white petals, slowly reaching the stone pathway. The large silvery moon hid itself among the clouds, overpowered by the darkness. The entire world was silent.

Gazing out from the stained glass window was a little girl dressed in layers of unnecessary clothing. Her pale emaciated figure suggested an ill little girl wishing to be outside, outside where winter was at its fullest. A little statue perched on top of a rich red leather sofa, a diminutive sculpture, wishing to be alive and free from the safe and comforting presence of her home.

Tiny footsteps formed on the supple layers of pallid snow. She had done it, she had escaped. The girl beamed at the familiar images of a typical winter’s night, illustrations she had only ever seen through her window were now tangible and real. The trees parted to form a path for the tiny figure, introducing her to the beauty of winter, for the first time in eight years.

The girl glanced back at her now abandoned house. The old brick walls and red roof of her house now looked indistinct and unfamiliar. The girl ripped off her little red petticoat, throwing it up into the darkness of winter. She danced into the mysterious depth of her newfound freedom and was swallowed by the winters night.