Written by Ayena Shaneez, Class of 2016, Sophomore Aer
“I am so sorry Olaf. They were...they were the best snowmen in Winter Woods.” With that the last mourner left. Olaf stood silently under light shower of snowflakes as the graveyard turned silent once more. He dropped to his knees and cried, hugging himself for warmth. As his sobbing receded, he gave his last eulogy.
“Dad, you were the bravest snowman I knew. You were my role model and I will miss you. I will miss your gruffness, how we bonded through baseball, how your eyes lit up when I hit a home run, how you had always been there for me.” Olaf said, placing frozen irises at the base of his father's tombstone. He turned to the adjacent tombstone.
“Mom, you gave the warmest hugs in Winter Woods. I don't know how to live without you. I love you, mom. I love you so much.” Olaf said, and with that, he bid his final farewell to his parents and began walking home.
As he stepped into the threshold of his home, he was assaulted by a barrage of happy memories. His father reading the paper in the morning. His mother knitting beside the kitchen table. The delightful trio eating dinner together. Then it hit Olaf like a ton of bricks. He had no one else. He was alone, and so he began packing. To where, even he didn't know. Anywhere but where he was now.
He packed his tiny amount of belongings into a bundle, and he was set. Olaf walked and walked for what seemed like ages. He spent his nights on the ground or nestled near frozen foliage. He scoured the ground for nuts and acorns. He came across a perching owl one morning. “Hello” he said - waving to the animal. The owl ignored him-extending its wings, ready for flight. “Hey wait! Wait!” Olaf called out as the great bird flapped its wings and soared into the shaded sky.
The owl was now a speck in the sky, and yet Olaf followed it throughout the morning. He forced himself through the labyrinth of pine trees until his whole body was numb. The owl was the beacon-the guide- and he, the follower.
Olaf felt it before he saw it.The heat. And then he found it. Summer. The line between winter and summer was so narrow and distinct, with Olaf standing a mere inch away from crossing that boundary. For a second, Olaf was caught in a conundrum but then he remembered that he had nothing to live for anymore. And so he crossed.
The feeling of sunlight was euphoric,unlike any other sensation. Olaf twirled in the warmth, a prominent smile plastered on his face. He inhaled the pollen with extreme gusto and listened to the chirping in the air. The emerald leaved trees rustled slowly,whispering to each other. Heaven, he thought. Olaf found himself staring at the azure sky and the sun nestled in between cotton clouds like an untouched egg yolk. That was the last thing Olaf remembered.
The owl watched intently, astounded as Olaf melted in a matter of seconds, leaving behind only black stones, a carrot and two sticks. His heart went out to Olaf's family. Little did he know what the melted snowman had been through.
“I am so sorry Olaf. They were...they were the best snowmen in Winter Woods.” With that the last mourner left. Olaf stood silently under light shower of snowflakes as the graveyard turned silent once more. He dropped to his knees and cried, hugging himself for warmth. As his sobbing receded, he gave his last eulogy.
“Dad, you were the bravest snowman I knew. You were my role model and I will miss you. I will miss your gruffness, how we bonded through baseball, how your eyes lit up when I hit a home run, how you had always been there for me.” Olaf said, placing frozen irises at the base of his father's tombstone. He turned to the adjacent tombstone.
“Mom, you gave the warmest hugs in Winter Woods. I don't know how to live without you. I love you, mom. I love you so much.” Olaf said, and with that, he bid his final farewell to his parents and began walking home.
As he stepped into the threshold of his home, he was assaulted by a barrage of happy memories. His father reading the paper in the morning. His mother knitting beside the kitchen table. The delightful trio eating dinner together. Then it hit Olaf like a ton of bricks. He had no one else. He was alone, and so he began packing. To where, even he didn't know. Anywhere but where he was now.
He packed his tiny amount of belongings into a bundle, and he was set. Olaf walked and walked for what seemed like ages. He spent his nights on the ground or nestled near frozen foliage. He scoured the ground for nuts and acorns. He came across a perching owl one morning. “Hello” he said - waving to the animal. The owl ignored him-extending its wings, ready for flight. “Hey wait! Wait!” Olaf called out as the great bird flapped its wings and soared into the shaded sky.
The owl was now a speck in the sky, and yet Olaf followed it throughout the morning. He forced himself through the labyrinth of pine trees until his whole body was numb. The owl was the beacon-the guide- and he, the follower.
Olaf felt it before he saw it.The heat. And then he found it. Summer. The line between winter and summer was so narrow and distinct, with Olaf standing a mere inch away from crossing that boundary. For a second, Olaf was caught in a conundrum but then he remembered that he had nothing to live for anymore. And so he crossed.
The feeling of sunlight was euphoric,unlike any other sensation. Olaf twirled in the warmth, a prominent smile plastered on his face. He inhaled the pollen with extreme gusto and listened to the chirping in the air. The emerald leaved trees rustled slowly,whispering to each other. Heaven, he thought. Olaf found himself staring at the azure sky and the sun nestled in between cotton clouds like an untouched egg yolk. That was the last thing Olaf remembered.
The owl watched intently, astounded as Olaf melted in a matter of seconds, leaving behind only black stones, a carrot and two sticks. His heart went out to Olaf's family. Little did he know what the melted snowman had been through.
Very spiritual story... The story about our lives, because it's true that we don't know what we’ve got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we’ve been missing until it arrives. I'll share it to my friend from labreportwriter team, she likes to write such stories and read stories, written by other authors.
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