Winter's Fury

• Tanisha Ryan, Grade 11, Heathcote High School
• Short Story
• 2017

Excellence Award in the 'Spread The Word 2017' competition

Howling, screeching, the wind whipped through the tall, ancient oaks, their strong trunks resisting against the ferocious wind. The dark, ominous clouds closed in, small creatures scuttling into their burrows. Before long, the rain and sleet began to fall, slamming into the long and luscious, green grass. Suddenly, a silhouette streaked through the forest, its nimble feet pushing it faster and faster. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, its rays transforming the silhouette into one of a girl.
Her caramel hair, straight and thick, dancing in the roaring wind, moss green eyes flickering about the forest, small, lithe body carrying her deeper into the old trees, her chest heaving as she stumbled upon a clearing.
The great weather gods continued to battle above; wind's invisible talons raked the trees, lightning's silent, sizzling power struck the ground as thunder's loud grumble echoed through the pitch black sky.
Tears, tears of sadness, streamed down the child's face, the rain drenching her once beautiful, floral dress that now hung limply in the mud.
Why? Why is he so mad? the child thought to herself, hiccupping sobs escaping from her tiny pale lips.
Racing the elements, she scurried frantically through the chaotic woods; branches scratching her frail arms, roots tripping her feet and leaves catching in her silky hair. The petite, innocent girl ran and ran and ran, all the while the storm raged above. Flash, flash, flash, lightning arced across the darkened clouds, thunder chasing angrily behind, a policeman racing after a criminal.
With no warning or alarm, the storm skidded to a stop; it’s great, grey clouds dispersing into thin air, lightning and thunder silenced and banished as the wind settled into the trees.
The infant ceased her terrified escape as a single, small snowflake caressed her young, fair face-its texture light and imperceptible, a brush of cold, wet air. Slowly, they fell, their shape and size never the same as the breeze made them cartwheel towards the ever-growing, white ground.
Tears and sadness forgotten, she played with the snow as it teased her curious mind, small hands trying desperately to grasp these fluffy, pristine mysteries. The now, calm sky watched the child with pride and appreciation for such a buoyant creation. For she was Winter's daughter, her wrong doings forgiven and Winter's fury now only a memory as the child blossomed in the weak sun.