Chilled to the Bone | Teen Ink

Chilled to the Bone

April 2, 2024
By baby_cowboy_era, Los Angeles, California
More by this author
baby_cowboy_era, Los Angeles, California
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I love baths!" - jxdn, 2020
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." -Martin Luther King Jr.
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." -Oscar Wilde
"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.” – Helen Keller


Author's note:

My writing Club teachers, Mrs. Edwards and Ms. Squire inspired me when it came to this short story. I hope that once people read it, they'd want to check out my future work.

The author's comments:

 

2020:

You hurried and grabbed your bags, desperate to make it out. Your plane leaves in 30 minutes. Just enough time to make it to the airport. You live in Jackson, Wyoming in an area that's about 10 minutes from the airport. 

You know you'll be able to make it, but you have to hurry, anyway. You check the weather apps daily... hourly at that. 

You always make sure you leave town, right before it snows. If the weather app says it will snow, then you hurry and pack a few bags, headed to the next town over. 

Headed to wherever it's not snowing. You hurried out of your house into your car, shoved the bags into the trunk and plopped into the front seat. You turned the key; the engine began to rumble. 

The car started and you turned on the heat. Finally! It feels like you've been waiting forever... to get out of there. You screeched out of your driveway, heading to the airport. 

Next stop, Fiji.

2024:

Anyway, that was 4 years ago. Now, you have come up with a better plan. You always have emergency bags handy in your closet. 

Ready to go at any given moment. Winter is coming soon and you know the snow is going to start slowly pouring in sometime in the next few days. But, you are well prepared. You hate the snow. 

Well, you haven't always hated the snow. You used to love it... when you were little. That was before the accident. Right now, you're lying on your couch completely oblivious to everything around you. You're sunk into a good book. 

You know, those books you never want to put down, the ones where you imagine every little detail no matter how small and you somehow feel so connected to it. 

Your television is playing in the background, but you pay it no mind. Until you hear sirens. Loud and clear. It's like you get snapped out of your fantasy and back into reality. 

You look at the weatherman on the screen. He looks formal and mature. His brown hair is slicked back like in the 90s. His blue eyes glitter, like, well… snow. 

"Surprisingly, we are diving into a deep storm. The snow is coming down like... well, I wanted to tell you an excellent ice pun, but the problem is that it’s just slipped my mind! Have a winterful day everybody, back to you Bruce!" He says, chuckling at his own joke. 

Stunned, you walk to your window, hoping it's just a joke. 

Slowly, you open the curtain and... and snow is coming down! Obnoxiously, you throw down your book. You yell out a high deafening yelp. 

‘This cannot be happening.’ You think to yourself. Suddenly, a knock on your door makes you stand up, as you’ve been crouched on the floor. You walk to the door, drowsily, afraid to open it. 

You stumble to the door, feeling dizzy. You crack it open a bit, peering out. Your neighbor stands there with a charming look on her face. 

“Hi, I heard some questionable noises and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” She says, smiling softly. 

“Sorry, Mrs. Jones. I’m fine, just got some bad news.” You quickly lie, well technically you didn’t lie. It’s snowing which is bad news for you. 

The door is still cracked and you’re still peering out only a little. Your eyes slowly travel up to the sky, looking at the snow falling, it’s getting deep. 

“Oh well, I’m glad you’re ok, sweetheart!” The fragile old lady speaks. 

Mrs. Jones is wrapped in a big winter coat and fluffy brown boots. Her face is old and wrinkly and you can’t see a little of the bottom of her face because of the scarf, which is wrapped around her neck. Her voice is muffled because of the scarf. 

“Umm, you best be getting home, Mrs. Jones. This snow is getting deep.” You say, looking back down at her, since she’s shorter than you. 

“Oh.” She looks behind her. 

“Yes, you're right! I’ll see you later.” She says, smiling and waving, walking off. Well, more like waddling off. You quickly close the door. “

Oh god, this is so bad!” You say, out loud. Suddenly, your hands start getting tingly and they start feeling like they're stretching. “

Oh, it’s happening.” You say, shaking your head quickly. 

You sit on the floor and lay back. Now, you're laying on the floor staring at the ceiling, not having the strength to move. After some time, you start to lift up your hands. 

Trembling, you bring your hands to your face. You stare at your hands in shock. You knew this was going to happen if it ever snowed and you were still there, but you haven’t been in this form for so long. 

You're usually out there, enjoying your beach house in Fiji or in your friends or families house, enjoying a nice warm meal. 

Anywhere without snow. 

Anywhere. 

But, you didn’t expect snow this time. Your hands are pale and icy. Yes, icy. You knew that you were going to turn into this creature, sometime. 

But, why now? 

You slowly stand up, looking down at your legs. Your legs are also pale and icy. You shiver, feeling a sudden tremble of coldness run through your body. 

‘God, I should’ve worn pants’, you think to yourself. You walk to your room, quickly passing the mirror. You do not have the courage to look at your appearance, not yet. 

You run to your drawer, opening the bottom one and pulling out a pair of pants. You quickly change, feeling much better, but still cold. 

You then move to your top drawer and pull out a long sleeve shirt and sweater. 

You slide those on and walk to the mirror, slowly. You stare at yourself. Your hair is frozen stiff and small icicles hang from your ears. Little snow droplets are in your eyelashes. 

“Wow, I was hoping to never see you again.” You say out loud. Instantly, a voice comes out of your mouth. 

A voice you know too well. 

It’s your voice, but deeper and vile. Your mouth moves with the voice, but you’re not controlling it. 

“You know you can’t get away from me.” It says. 

“I’m a part of you, now.” It continues. 

“No, you aren’t” You respond, trying to sound brave yet you sound like a timid little child. 

“Yes, I am. If I wasn’t then how come this is who you turn into when it snows, hmm?” It asks, which makes you think. 

“I turn to this because of the accident and you know that.” You say. 

“Hmm... What accident? I’m not familiar with this accident, refresh my memory, yeah?” 

It says, raising one eyebrow. Your eyebrow, yet you’re not controlling it. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You were created because of the dumb accident.” You say, getting angry. 

“Dumb accident? I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. And if it created me, then I’m sure it’s not dumb.” It says, saying the word ‘me’ big and boldly. 

The accident happened long ago. When you were little. Your father is a scientist, he’s always coming up with new inventions. 

He created a machine that is able to make it snow, anytime and anywhere. A great and clever invention, until four-year-old innocent and absent-minded you walked into his lab. 

Completely oblivious to everything around, just attempting to retrieve your ball. The shiny red ball, you had got it for your second birthday. It was your favorite. Little kids love their stuffed animals and dolls, they’d go anywhere with them. 

For you, it was your ball. You were playing with it in the house. 

No harm in that… right? 

Well, your father had left the lab door open. He’d figured nothing would happen, he was just stepping out for a quick second. 

Your ball rolled in and you were determined to get it back. The machine hadn’t been fully tested, so when the ball bounced on the button, it turned on and you were in front of it. The machine blasted you, no injuries. 

But, soon when your father came back, when he realized that the machine had been used… he realized what the machine did to you.

No snow = no creature. 

Your father was so frustrated at himself and he wished that he had never left that door open. But, you can’t change the past, right?

 Suddenly, the creature laughs. 

A dry, vain laugh. 

The creature is so full of itself, it’s quite strange. But, then again, the creature is the complete opposite of you. It never thinks of anyone else, it feels that it's above you and everyone else. 

The creature is like Jack Frost because of the snow. 

But, it’s also quite like The Mask. Stanley Ipkiss is just an average man but the mask gives him a strange persona. 

Quite like the snow does to you.  

The creature can hear color and see sound. It can taste air and smell fear. 

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” The creature laughs. 

That soulless laugh. 

“Oh, wait. I got your tongue!” It says. 

Suddenly, your tongue joltingly sticks out of your mouth. The sudden and unexpected force makes you almost fall forward. 

Once the creature has finished having its fun, your tongue slips back into your mouth. 

“Just because you can control me, doesn’t mean you're a part of me.” You say. 

“I can get rid of you at any given moment.” You continue. 

“Psshh, that means you’d have to face your father.” It says. 

“And you’d never do that… you do hold quite a nice grudge.” It adds, giggling. 

You haven’t talked to your father in years. Ever since the accident, you and your father pretty much grew apart. 

Obviously, when you were four you didn’t understand the situation much. But, once you got older and hit 10 years old, you and him kind of stopped talking. You were never really sure why and you still aren’t sure. 

But, you know that if you ask him for a favor now there is a big chance he’ll deny. You don’t have the courage to face him after all these years, anyway. You could always ask your mother to ask him for you, but who’d do that? 

This is very serious and you’d need to speak to him face-to-face. But, for now, until you work up the courage... this creature is stuck in you. 

The creature with the first name of a Gorgon and the last name of a Demon. 

The creature known as Chuxeidon Talvameth. 



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.