The Snow Lay On the Ground

[Meg Boyd]

This is a piece I had to write as a part of the practice exam for advanced placement english. It was showing how views through a window at two different times can be changed by the mood perception of the viewer...it is rather dark but I wrote it during my short bout with depression a few weeks ago..but when my teacher graded it, it got the top score so I decided to post it just because I rather enjoyed it anyways, no matter how dark it was.

The Snow Lay On the Ground

The snow was floating down from the very tips of the sky, like feathers bursting from the seams of a fluffy pillow. Looking through the frosted pane of my bedroom window, I too felt as if I were floating across the china blue sky. The early morning sun beams danced between the white flakes as they gracefully finished their downward journey to the earth below. The white morsels of sky collected on the barren earth in a thick creamy icing. Today was a happy day by the way I was feeling. The world was spinning on its axis and I was in the middle loving every revolution. Pressing my face against the icy pane, creating patches of fog from my warm breath, I noticed how every living or inanimate object seemed to vibrate with the very source of life and energy. Each snowflake was delicately and perfectly placed in its position on earth. The snow covered the world with a blanket of white, purifying humanity from all sins of the past like a crisp, white baptismal garment.

The day was fresh and pure. The roads were crisp and untouched by traffic, not even the faithful postal truck. Opening the window a crack, I was exhilarated just by breathing in the cold, clear air which honed in my already alert senses. The sun burned bright against the clouds with a smile, seemingly hidden for the world. Today I saw the sun’s smile and I knew it was meant for me. Everything was perfect, and like the world I too was fresh and pure, vibrating with boundless energy and ready to attack the day with vigor and zest. I would not attack alone. A boy entered the room, and we knew and we felt the affinity that burned in our hearts. I was one with the world and he was one with me. Nothing could stop us now, not even a seven nation army. Today we were one, together fused like the icy flakes on the chocolate colored branches of dormant trees. Today we were perfect and just sitting at the window, gazing at the blinding white light of opportunity bouncing off the purified earth was not enough. I, we, needed to go and do and conquer life.

A girl entered the room. A flashing smile blinded us both and with the crashing wind that whisked the delicate snow from the branches, I fell. I crawled back to the window, and as suddenly as my floating desire to conquer life began, a new feeling began to bubble to the surface. Life seemed to conquer me as the sun retreated behind the darkened clouds. A gloomy sense of grey dimness poured over the snow in a ghastly light to cover the world. The traffic had increased and a rusty garbage truck puttered around the corner. I had seen this very truck before, as it was a part of a very distant memory. My insides shook, hoping that the truck would not stop for me. The truck also shook as it stopped with a whir of evil wheezes, squeals and hisses of warning of the devastation to come. Dark, murky smoke enveloped from its stack, spreading its evil thoughts and feelings across the once purified snow. The joyous vibration of perfect ceased to exist, screaming of secret infidelities my future. The grains of carbon hit the snow, making the pure baptismal garment of earth stained by the dirty fingers of man.

But were they my fingers? Did I bring the darkness that spread across the snow? Did I bring the heat from the truck’s hellish engine of fire that melted the snow just as my hopes and dreams and affinity to a soul melted in to a puddle on the parquet? Did I cause the liquefied snow of dreams to run through the gutter to mix with the poison streams of the sinister, inviting sewer?

My life was tainted with the poison carbon from the well-traveled truck, like the snow that passed away before my very eyes. I no longer felt the need to live and I struggled to stay in this world. The earth spun off-kilter and the force of gravity no longer was enough to keep me in place. Clutching to my dearest friend I struggled to fight the deadly strains of carbon that infiltrated my very blood, which now ran as cold as the icy fingers of death that whistled through the crack in my window. I was dropped and the fingers of death and the choking carbon grasped my throat finished me off. I felt dead on the inside but I knew I must be mistaken. God would not let the snow die. With a weakened smile of hope, I peered out my breaking window and saw that my lovely, hopeful snow was nearly gone. My snow was just a pile of discarded grayish dirt, left on the curb for no one to save. At the sight of this the poisoned air killed my spirit and ravaged my energy. My soul was plundered of its hopes, its dreams, its love, and its wishes for the future. My affinity was raped with the dark stain of jealous poison, raining from the innards of the rusty truck. Like the flood of dirty slush that raced along the gutters, my many faults and wrongs haunted me as I again asked “why?”.

The snow was gone; a heterogeneous mixture of ice and dust. It was melted and flowed down the street. I was dying and melting, my soul dirty and cold. My dreams just a silly memory as I saw the boy and girl laughing beside a roaring fire, knowing nothing of the slaughter of the snow just a few feet from their rosy cheeks of love. The spring was coming, and the old proverb came true. With the spring time a young man’s fancy turned to love. The words in my memory burned my flushed cheeks of sorrow, as I knew this would never be true for me. The tears began to flow for the first time and the grey rains of spring fell from the ever darkened sky. The rain seemingly purified the earth once more, washing the last of the tainted snow into the deep caverns of the sewer. The streets were clear to the naked eye of the recent rampage of evil, but as I leaned closer to the grimy window I could see the blackish traces of poison on the street. This reminder of imperfection reminded me for the last time that the world, like other things, would never be mine again.

[Plep]

really beautiful story...it made me feel sad and I guess that's a sign of a good story!
I really like the way you chose your words...its almost like watching a painting...poetical is a word that came to my mind almost instantly....

It was a bit of a switch though being used to the Harry Potterish English , but i can definetely see why your teacher gave you top marks!

Way to go!

[zledm007]

meg, that was amazing. I have to agree with plep, your diction is superb, you knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. I love the symbolism. I don't know if me knowing you personally helped because I know where this came from. Knowing you, reading that really is frightening, and i think it would be to anyone who reads it. but that's what makes it so good. there's o much emotion. i could go on for ever about it, but that bore everyone. excellent work.

[Amon Rê]

Excuisitly(sp?) written I'd a given it a 5 I loved how it tore me in two...It wasn't just soft and beautiful, it was harsh and real...

[choki]

You definitely have a good command of the written english and your story is just like a big piece of painting depicting your emotions - happiness, sadness, disappointment...
Good one, Meg

[Reverie Revenge]

Wow, Meg, dream & despression at the same time - cool!
I like writing about the imperfection

Nobody has mentioned it so far, but I like the title - it's not revealing, though it may tell us the mood of the story (lots of ppl don't pay much attention to titles, but I do).

[Meg Boyd]

thanks, I named the title after my favorite Christmas carole, actually, but the title of the carole seemed to fit my story as well!

thanks man

[han lin]

i havent commented in this yet. but i have read it lots and lots. i haven't been able to find the right words but i feel it deserves some kind of whoosh of praise.

It made me feel entranced like i couldnt look away and read it. it was also painful and real. very very brutally beautiful.

I like ( not sure if like is the right word to use...) this a lot. muchos kudos!

[Meg Boyd]

thanks a lot han lin...this piece will always have a spot close to my heart!

[han lin]

and so it should! its awesome!