There's something beautiful about the snow. I love watching it fall through the air, like it does not care about the world. It will get to the ground eventually but only when it wants to. I have been traveling for many miles. The only thing I have seen for the last 5 years is the snow. I wish I could say that it hasn't affected me but it has. When I embarked on this journey, I thought that it was the doorway to a new life, a chance to leave the places I called home for the first time in my life. That I could do something that no one has before me, thrive, it was easy in the beginning, I could sing and I could remember those from my past. After a while it began to fall through my grasp, just like the snow. I could hear their voices just out of reach like a flake of snow in the corner of my eye. One moment it's all you see, the next it's lost in a sea of white. I used to love the snow, a beautiful landscape of jagged mountains with a dusting of snow and a splash of evergreen. Now all I see is the maw of a giant beast about to end my suffering once and for all. I sometimes wonder what they think of me, what they thought of me. They're all dead now. Or maybe I'm dead, I’m not sure anymore. I'm so close now I can feel it, like the melting of the ice, an emotion that has long since been covered by a drift of snow, hope. The map says that the outpost is over the next pass, only 3 miles from my salvation. It's hope that drives me mad. Knowing that what I see laid before me may confirm all my fears. The pure unadulterated horror of it is enough to drive any rational man mad. There before me buried in the snow is my salvation dead just like my hope. 

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

It's been 3 months since I came across the ruins of the outpost. My map says that the next one isn't far from my position, only 5 miles. I can make it, I have to make it, I must make it. The cold is creeping into my bones now, it almost has me in its clutches, the finality of death my only driving factor. I'm 1 mile away now and if it weren't for the blizzard hounding me on all sides I'd be able to see it, see my new life. Step after step breaking away the ice on my bones I push and pull with all the dwindling strength left in my body. There I see my savior, a light, multiple lights. Tears of joy streak down my face at the sight the outpost is alive just like me. I'm going to make it, It's only a hundred yards away. It's so close I can hear them talking and I can smell the food. It's so warm. I can finally rest my head, I can finally be free and in the morning I can meet my new people. The snow is covering me now. I feel as though I lost something but I'm so tired I just want to sleep in the snow. It's so soft. There's something beautiful about the snow.