Welcome to First Lines Given! If that sentence confuses you, here’s a link to where I explain what this is.
Today’s first line is by Ann Harrison-Barnes! (Happy early birthday, Ann!) She said:
Such a sweet one! I rarely see snow, so I don’t write about it often. Anyways, here’s the result:
On a cold November morning, I awoke in a world covered with snow. I had seen snow like this on TV before, but I had never seen it this close. I pulled some shoes on and ran downstairs. The door creaked as I opened it. The snow froze my hands as I scooped it up. Did this mean the beach down the street had closed for the day?
I wasn’t sure what to do with this coldness. I dropped the snow, realizing how frozen my hands felt and ran back inside. I wiped my hands with kitchen towels, but that wasn’t enough. Weird. I didn’t have any heaters here, so I grabbed a heating pad I use for menstruation cramps and waited for it to heat up.
The warmth felt amazing on my hands. I wrapped my feet in it too, noticing how much the coldness had seeped into my shoes as well. It seemed like it was taking over me. I needed more warmth.
I rushed towards my closet to find any thick blanket that I might have. On my way up the stairs, my reflection in the mirror made me pause.
A white streak ran through my hair. I had never had a light streak in my brunette hair before. Where had that come from?
My hand reached up to touch it, but it jerked away when I realized how cold my hair was. My hand shook. I touched another part of my head, but it was normal. Not freezing. My hand turned into ice again though. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had no time to waste. I needed to stop this coldness.
I rushed up the stairs and grabbed three blankets. One was normal sized and fluffy, but the other two were pretty small. I needed all the help I could get though. I raced back downstairs to my heating pad. I wrapped the blankets around me and put my frozen hand back on the heating pad. It took a while for my hand to defrost.
But, out of nowhere, a chill ran down my spine as my front door cracked open. A round snowball rolled in and turned like it was going to roll towards me.
I jumped back, tripping over myself with all the blankets surrounding me. It didn’t move any more than it already had. But it had to have been something, right? I had the door closed. Locked. Right?
My thoughts swarmed as I tried to think about where the snowball had come from. I glanced out my window, but I didn’t see anyone on the street. This wasn’t a neighborhood with many kids, so I doubted they were just ‘dropping a snowball prank by.’
Even if they did, how would they get my locked door open?
I stepped towards the snowball, and it rolled about a step back. I paused, not sure whether I had actually caused it to go backwards. One way to find out though, right?
I took another step, but the snowball rolled to the right this time, closer to going through my door again. I took one more step and another. The snowball was out in the middle of my yard by the time I reached the door. It also wasn’t as big as it was before. Smaller. Almost nonexistent.
I watched it disappear into the snow on the ground through the door’s closing sliver. I locked it again, making sure it was truly locked this time.
My feet stumbled backwards, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. I didn’t feel as cold anymore. That was a good sign at least.
Behind me in the kitchen, the toaster reflected my dull, brunette reflection right back at me. No white streak. Odd. I had sworn I saw it there before.
I sighed. Might as well clean up my mess.
I unplugged the heating pad and put it in its box. I shoved it back into its corner of the bathroom closet. I grabbed one of the blankets off the ground and folded it. I set it on my end table under the window for the moment.
I paused, noticing no snow on the ground outside anymore. What? I had just seen it.
But no. Now, the snow was gone like it was all a dream. I tried looking through another window and even a window upstairs, but I couldn’t find any snow. It had disappeared.
I had to get myself together. It was November, but I lived near the equator. There was no snow. Had to be. I must had not slept well last night. Right? What else would cause such a thing?
But as I grabbed the next blanket from the floor to fold, a snowball rolled out.
Copyright © Robin LeeAnn