By Hannah Brown, TIWP student
It all started on the bank of the river near their mother’s house. One reached into the icy currents and picked up a rock. The other grabbed it and the jagged edges ripped through the soft skin on his palm. Both stared mesmerized at the droplets falling into the water, creating ripples that twirled around the red clouds. Each day they returned, hiding the increasing amounts of cuts with gloves and never empty hands. When the pond froze over, they realized the contrast between blood and snow was more enticing than the fleeting sight of blood dancing in water. Years passed and they discovered that their favorite time of year was autumn when the first snowfall settled next to the still running river. Eventually the day came when they ran out of spaces.
It didn’t take long for one to catch a glimpse of beauty at the river where the other was waiting. They hesitated only once, but the blood rushing to her cheeks was just calling out to be spilled. So they went forward, because they simply couldn’t imagine the way back.
The girl was found the next afternoon. One hand sitting on top of snow, and the other resting above the swirling waters. Both wrists sliced and a faint dusting of frost covered her blue limbs.