Bitter Wind

I felt my way along the iced rocks. I had little time as it was; the frostbite was clawing slowly at my fingers. The blizzard intensified, and the white shroud it created blotted my vision. I was walking blind, and were it not for the soothing trickle of the rushing river below, I would have fallen in.

I find myself underneath an ice archway, where the snow could not cover. I peer out from behind the ice and see the bridge. In the storm, it had snapped like a twig. There was no way I was getting back across.

Gazing towards the end of the river, I notice that there is a pile of rocks acting as a natural bridge further upstream. But it was too cold, and the snow was too thick. The frostbite was worsening – a pain that crept into your bones, deteriorating it until there was nothing but cold.

My mind was full of grief. I worried about my girlfriend, who would still be waiting on the other side, her love the goal that I had to reach. The only way to that goal would be to brave the blizzard, or face a certain death.

I took one last look at my surroundings, it could be the last time I ever saw it. The boulders that loomed ominously around the cliffs, the white snow, and every flake individual – it was like something out of a fairytale. A frozen paradise, covered in a thick white blanket.

At last, I make my decision. Forcing myself back into the snowstorm, my goggles fogged and my hands numb, I begin to cautiously edge my way along the cliff face. I could picture my girlfriend, and how beautiful she was. We were fellow scientists; Biologists who had traversed this harsh environment to study the wildlife up here. It was our last day, and yet again my search found nothing. I could not bear the thought of knowing that I left my girlfriend alone. I pushed on, snowflakes dancing around me like an intricate performance. It all seemed so familiar. I had indeed crossed this path many times before, but those times, the bridge had been accessible and the weather was clear. I had to keep shuffling along. I knew that at the other side, she would be there.

One foot in front of the other, I felt that I had hit an ice wall near the rock formation I had seen. Sure enough, between the mass of white I could see the telltale sign of that pile of rocks. It was pretty solid, and I just had to make it across. Coming this far and turning back would be letting her down… and it’d be suicide.

I tried not to think too hard about the frostbite, as my boots slid onto the rocks. The gushing water rumbled through the mountains, and as I watched, the ice flow was slowly edging upstream.

As I made it to the other side, I smiled. I could see the warm fire that I had longed for so long, and sitting by it I saw a figure, hunched over, preparing something.

Rushing at a pace so to ensure I didn’t lose my footing, I find my way over to the fire, and my girlfriend welcomes me with eager arms, her hair brushing against my face, and her warm embrace filling me with joy.

Then the world turns white.

It was the same dream for the three years after that. I never forgot her.

The dream wasn’t real. It was what I wish had happened. My girlfriend was the one who was trapped, not me. There was no rock formation, and the blizzard was merely because I did not want to think about the area she had died in. I was watching, calling my girlfriend over. The bridge had collapsed, certainly, but she didn’t try to find a way back. She smiled a weak smile, and jumped in.

Now I had set up my tent in the same place it was that night 3 years ago. The same night I had intended to ask for her hand in marriage. The same night I watched her die.

Now was the time for us to get back together. I took one last long look at the familiar surroundings, closed my eyes and jumped in to the river. For a fleeting moment, I felt her embrace.

This time, it was cold. It was so cold.

But we were together.