The Trail of One's Fear

A never-ending atmosphere of snow stretched out in front of me, with the crunch of snow beneath my feet echoing into the silence that embraced me. The trees bowing beneath their burden, branches dropping under the weight of snow.

“Even the trees look sad,” I sigh, as if their branches were a reflection of something.

I’ve taken so many steps, yet no progress.

“How long does this trail go on for?”

“How much longer must I freeze?”

“How much farther before I see something different?”

I speak into the emptiness, as if my own voice could thaw the stillness, as if words alone could melt this prison that I built. The snow piled up on the mountains around me, shining like cold stars frozen in time.

“Will I even escape this canvas of white, or am I destined to remain frozen within it?” I question, my body becoming covered in snow with each step.

The snow continued to pile up, and the temperature continued to drop. Each inch that was added to the snow made it harder for anyone to walk through. The footprints that I leave behind seem to be becoming lines rather than steps. The air I exhale is seemingly getting more visible as time goes on…

“I should start a fire soon.” I thought to myself, looking around for anywhere that could resemble a shelter.

The wind blew at my skin, crawling through every crack of my clothes, my face covered in a white layer of snow. Dragging my feet through the snow that was dragging me downwards towards its cold embrace. At this point, my entire body was shivering, my feet completely numb, and with each step, the snow looked more and more comforting.

“I…I…can’t go any further,” I stuttered, the icy wind biting my lips, making it hard to talk.

As my body collapsed to the floor, I could feel the snow engulfing me, and yet it felt somewhat comforting. Maybe I had come to terms that this would perhaps be the end of my journey. The snowflakes spiralling down from the sky made me stop, frozen in the moment. Each breath felt harder to take than the last, the snow clawing away at any warmth I had left, almost like I was being eaten by a pack of wolves.

Yet, I remained here, in this moment, taking in the clouds painted in white, the frozen petals floating onto my face.

All of it was seemingly a reminder…

A reminder of a time I probably should have forgotten…

You see, I wasn’t always so easy to succumb to the environment around me, but somewhere along my journey, I lost the fire that kept me warm.

It was at this point that the coldest of friends began beckoning me…fear.

Entering my brain, the fear I had felt, the fear I had been running from…Had finally caught up. It wasn’t out of breath, it wasn’t cold, it was warm, welcoming. Maybe this was how it was meant to be, maybe I should remain here.

Fear was an old friend of mine, but I had learned from countless times that I shouldn’t give in to it. I sat up, brushing the frozen petals off my face and rummaged through my pocket.

Inside lay the tools to light a fire, alongside something that would catch fire. I clenched it in my hand and began digging out the area around me. Exhausting myself even more in the process, I placed the flammable material on the ground and began striking. With each spark being a chance for warmth…

A chance to thaw my body and perhaps my mind.

Yet, with each strike, the little hope I had began to fade, like a fire in the rain. The snow was consuming each spark. I could tell my body needed a rest and the familiar feeling of warmth. However, none of that could be seen in this vast frozen landscape, not a single drop of warmth could be seen. My eyes reflected the cold environment, and so did my mindset.

I struck the match again…

Again…

Again…

Still nothing…

I begin fumbling with the box, dropping matches on the cold pillows of snow.

“It seems…I’ve lost the fire I used to have…After all, I’ve been frozen in the same place for such a long time now.”

The cold realisation that I wouldn’t be able to light a fire in these conditions had set in. The spark that I once had was devoured by my surroundings, and I began to think that I’d never make it out of here.

“I thought I could make a difference…”

“I don’t want to die here…It’s so cold…”

“And yet it seems warmer than pushing forward…”

The cold surrounded me, like a pack of hungry wolves ready to devour me. The fear of pushing on, and the fear of what I left behind, froze me in place.

I lay there, in the frozen forest, the trees drooping under the burden of the snow that lay on them. The snowflakes dancing in the wind slowly made me retreat into the corners of my mind. The white canvas that surrounded me seemed frozen in time, with no mark of progress to be seen, perhaps a reflection of my own thoughts.

“Maybe being stuck here isn’t so bad, after all”, I voiced with my last conscious effort before succumbing to the elements.

The snow was burying me in its embrace.

As if the world itself had decided, I’d never move again…