Melted Snowflakes

A Story by Aubin

English Final Essay. We had to choose a topic from our childhood, and I chose learning the truth about Santa Clause. We also had to change the memory, and make it symbolic. Enjoy!

Salt slinks down my distant disguise. Truth is burning my tongue as fierce as the blast that tears the northern sky. My little finger aches from the wintry breeze encompassing me. Fire lit lanterns glow in the distance, but they are now forever unattainable. I can feel the chill traveling from finger to finger eventually warping around the core of my frayed heart. Grey flashes through my mind fervently, but the chill suppresses the warmth from forming, and all that follows is utter blackness.
***
A shrill alarm repeated rhythmically, which alerted me to the day ahead. I dived out of bed enthusiastically, because I knew Christmas was only 5 days away. I executed my morning routine with an unusual torrent of energy. I swooped up my golden hued book from the tired wooden counter. As I walked to the door I scanned the “Cartoon Network Christmas Tales” fervently. Suddenly elves composing dazzling toys, reindeer fluttering above white smothered grounds and Santa sipping his milk softly from his golden chalice are illustrated behind my watery eyes.
Pacing slowly up my driveway I glanced at the scenic silver lake. Silver pulsed from the heart nipping at the edge of the embankment. My mother said not to go swimming alone, but today I felt an urge to reach out, and just lightly caress the shimmering waters. A gust of cold air alerted me to my actions, but the urgency increased with the throbbing of my pulse. My fingertips outstretched like a man grasping for salvation. Warmth trembled up my trusting palm. Calm, but furious heat trapped my fingers, which burned my little finger. I inhaled sharply, surprised by the intense heat of the silver lake. Tightly clasping my book in my left arm, I longingly left the lake. Gold ominously glowed around the binding of my book, and the lake’s silver crests seemed to soothe tranquilly.
Three children appeared before I could investigate further. Lucy, Apollyon, and Abaddon. Their father is known as the “Father of Lies” for his crimes against the community. They were all ruthlessly aggressive. Lucy stopped suddenly, and slyly advanced toward me. Her brothers silently followed behind. When she neared the silver lake seemed to dim. The energizing life vacated the water. Fear gripped my heart as tight as a drum, beating sporadically as Lucy outstretched her hand.
“Want to know a secret?” Mocking innocence.
“Pl-pl-please leave.” I stuttered
“Want to know a secret!?” She replied, piercing me with her devilish grin.
“No, I do not want to know”.
“All those things you imagine, and dream about...” She paused dramatically, giving me a daring glare.
“They have never been real, and they never could be.” She whispers maniacally and leaves me shaken.
Breath rushes out of my lungs, as I try to make sense of this situation. My bitten lips turn gray. Bitter blood lingers in my mouth. I try to suppress the panic forming inside of me. My salty tears stream down my twisted face, and all that follows is utter blackness.
When I become alert I am still lying on the compacted ground. I yearn for the warmth of the silver lake, to see the beautiful crests. I slowly arise from the ground, and I pivot to glance at the magnificent silver lake. Searching frantically I try to find the silver lake, but all that remains is a rust brown puddle, with my blackened book at the bottom.