Pale toes curled into the snow, as light filtered through the trees and settled on the ground, creating a brightness that belied the biting cold. Alisa could no longer feel the frigid temperatures nipping at her body, but she was always aware of its presence. No blood coursed through her veins; instead, her body was smooth, solid ice.
Alisa trudged forward, sinking into the snow with every step. She had no purpose, only walking until she grew too weary to continue. There was no place for someone like her in society. She was condemned to live her life in these woods, imprisoned by invisible walls of her own worries. So she walked to forget the misery of rejection, the pain of being different, and the loss of normalcy. Motion was her only solace. As long as she kept moving forward, she was making progress, no matter how insignificant.
Her trance-like state was interrupted by a sound. It was barely audible, but it was there: footsteps crunching through the snow in the distance. Filled with newfound energy, she began to run. Kicking up a spray of powder behind her, she ran toward the sound as it grew louder. Soon, she could make out a dark figure amidst the pristine white of winter. “Hello?” she called, her voice raw from days of disuse. The figure stopped moving and looked in her direction. Pushing down a thick hood, she could see a face. As she neared, more details became clear: male, and roughly twenty years old.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Stopping a few feet away, Alisa looked down at herself. Only a thin lilac dress hung from her frame. Adorned with lace but tattered and worn, it wasn’t in the best condition.
Mustering the strength to smile, she shook her head. “Nope, I can’t get cold.” Her words were soft and wispy, floating through the air. Fingers toying with the hem of a sleeve, she looked down at the ground, waiting for the boy to realize what she was. Alisa had met a few people since turning to ice, and they always reacted the same way: running in fear, calling her a monster, unnatural and wicked.
“Alisa?” The question caused her to look up. She was met with striking blue eyes and a shaggy mess of brown hair. Stumbling back a step, caught off guard by his proximity, her mind began to work. How did he know her name? Searching and spinning, she finally grasped an old memory—one of laughter, playing, warmth, and cheerfulness.
“Parker, is that you?” she asked tentatively. He quickly nodded, a smile spreading across his face. They had been friends as children, playing together while their parents worked.
“What happened to you?” he asked, taking one of her hands in his own. Flinching at the contact, Alisa let her eyes settle on their hands, held between them. Seeing no reason to hide the truth, she shared her story. Several years ago, she had walked across a frozen lake. She was cautious but not enough. The ice cracked under her feet, and before she could reach the bank, it collapsed. Shocked by the cold and weighed down by her clothing, she couldn’t reach safety. The world faded to black as her air ran out. She woke up some time later, safely in the snow, but her body had become solid ice. A voice warned her that warmth would melt this body, causing her to die. So she ran into the forest and never looked back.
Taking it all in with grace and kindness in his eyes, Parker released her hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re still around. Everyone told me you had died, but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it. You were my best friend. I couldn’t accept that someone who meant so much to me was gone.” Sadness and relief swirled in his eyes, along with countless emotions she couldn’t place.
Alisa smiled. For the first time in years, she felt genuinely happy. It was a feeling that swelled through her entire body. It was a warm feeling. She looked down at her fingers. Water was beading up on their surface and dripping into the snow below. Just like that, the feeling was gone, doused by a heavy dread. Her fingers were now shorter, the ends melted and gone, lost somewhere in the snow. Tears slid down her cheeks, leaving crystallized tracks in their path. She truly lived a cursed existence. In exchange for an extended life, any warmth—physical or emotional—caused her to melt into nothing.