Ah yes. A bittersweet story to make the day better. I have heard some good things about this one. If you do feel strong emotions, please do not cry on the book, it is bad for the pages.

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One Day

(2021)

Sunlight's gentle warmth pierced through the shadowing clouds, finding its way to me. But I could barely feel the presence of warmth on my skin. The bloodstained snow around me glittered in the rays. Someone will come. Someone will come, I continued to reassure myself. But the spreading numbness in my legs brought doubt with it.

My chest throbbed along with my head, perfectly synchronized. I wished I hadn't lost my boots, my toes really wanted them. Actually, all I wanted right then was to be wrapped up in a warm blanket, sipping sweet, mouthwatering, hot chocolate, sitting in front of the fireplace back at home. Home. I missed it.

I cried by best I'm-so-stupid-I-never-should-have-done-that cry. No freedom was worth dying, and freezing to death wasn't my kind of freedom. I thought I'd been trapped, but I'd had everything. Now I had nothing.

I sobbed silently as I stared up at the large ball of heat shining in the sky. This wasn't the worst way to go. I could think of worse.

Against my better judgment, I shoved my hands against the powdery snow and forced myself to sit up. I screamed along with my chest, my cries echoing across the snow-covered valley.

Muscles wailing, I flexed my reddening fingers. The blood flowed back to my fingers, bringing back the pain with it. I clenched my jaw, forcing the screams down. The pain made it nearly impossible to pull out my notebook, but I managed. If that was the end, if I never got to say the words I needed to say, they needed to be written down. Moving as slowly as I could, I started scrawling down the words. My half-frozen fingers struggled to keep a grip on the pencil, and I dropped it multiple times before getting a good grip. My fingers burned, but I had to do this. After the few words were written, the pencil dropped out of my hand for the last time. I dropped the notebook as well and let it fall onto my lap for her to find.

One day.

One day she would know that I cared.

One day she would understand.

One day she would know I loved her.

Powerful wind strode by, mocking my weakness. I let my head rest back in the snow and closed my eyes for a few moments, a feeling of guilt washed over me for leaving.

When I opened my eyes again, tiny white flakes were drifting down. The bright sun melted them before they hit the ground. As the flakes drifted by, I became a kid again.

Snowflakes danced around me, landing on the ground, or my nose. I giggled as a large flake landed on my tongue. "Momma, where's the pond?" I asked, eyeing the shiny thing that now sat where the pond had been.

"It's still there," Momma said, bending down and pointing at the spot where the pond supposedly still was. "It's just frozen."

I bent down and poked the shiny stuff. "Ice!" I yelped, remembering the cubes of shiny stuff that were in our water sometimes. Ice was safe, even yummy. I took a large step forward, setting a boot on the ice.

"No!" Momma shrieked, reaching for me.

As I stepped forward with my other foot, there was a loud cracking sound. Then cold. Just cold.

Cold water caged me, tugging me deeper into the dark. I struggled to comprehend what was happening, was this really the pond? My lungs gasped for air, and when they couldn't have it, began to scream. I kicked madly against the water, but I couldn't get to the air waiting for me above the water. Just as my legs began to grow numb, hands reached around me and pulled me to the surface.

Fresh air blew into my lungs. "Momma!" I wailed, gripping her arms with all my might.

"It's okay, you're fine now. As long as we have each other, we'll be fine."

Her strong arms had comforted me, now I wished they were still wrapped around me.

That's when I heard it. In the distance. My name. Over and over again. People calling for me. 

Someone came.

*       *       *

When I woke up again, I was alone in a room with stark white walls. The color was repulsive, it reminded me too much of the snow I'd been out in for days. 

My entire body felt numb. The aching of starvation and the raw pain of my dry mouth was gone and the long gash on my side was wrapped in white bandages. It was still a little hard to believe a gash that big had come from falling out of a tree. 

There was a tube hooked up to my arm, probably the thing keeping me alive. I resisted the urge to rip it out, and instead stared at the door. 

Come in, I begged, the longing in my eyes shining as brightly as the plastic rim of the bed I was in. As if she could hear my plea, she strode into the room, smiling warmly.

"Mom," I whispered, tears springing into both of our eyes. She silently squeezed the life out of me. I hugged her back just as fiercely with my free arm.

"I thought I lost you," she whispered back, her voice cracking as she cried. "Two whole weeks. . ." Trailing off, she pulled out of the hug and looked me over, all smiles and tears.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you, or said anything I did, you should be able to be yourself without me leaning over your shoulder. I'm—"

I raised the hand not strapped to an IV to stop her. "Mom, no. It's my fault. I got mad. I shouldn't have run away like that." Here they were. My words. Today was my one day. "I love you."

Mom pulled me into another hug. Tears spilled out of my eyes, the good kind.

There will be no tears of sorrow today.

"I love you too."