Author's note: This was an assignment for my English Lit class and enjoyed writing it so much, I figured I would publish it. Enjoy!
I remember sliding on a sheet of ice. I was spinning in big circles, door frames and mirrors moving around me in a blur. I heard a child's laughter ricocheting off the walls; dancing all around me.
All of the playful and light-hearted atmosphere began to sink away into nothingness. Then, the nothingness slowly began to transform itself into the high pitched whistles of wind blowing.
I crack open my eyes to see a blue mist, scattered with crystals. The storm circled around me, building me up into my given form. I looked down and saw at first, a big ball of snow that must have been my body. Below it I saw to smaller balls of snow that were meant to be my stubby feet.
While I inspected myself, I saw two sticks moving in the corners of my eyes: They're my hands. I move them around this way and that. I sigh and pat my chubby belly with my stick hands. I looked up and saw the snow storm beginning to die away. I looked around me and saw tree branches encrusted with white frost.
Where am I?
Who am I?
Why am I here?
I begin to walk out of the clearing I assume I woke up in. I hear snow clumps falling from branches, snow hares scattering away from my obnoxious trekking… and something else.
It's not a bird, its not a bell… it sounds like a woman's voice. I try to get close to the voice, but I feel like I'm stuck in a maze, stuck for all eternity. I shudder at the thought. I scramble around the bend of a tree trunk, and see a young red headed woman through the branches. Then suddenly it hits me:
The vague dream I had in the clearing wasn't a dream at all. I remember the two little girls who were responsible for the creation of me. How I got the pleasure of watching them play for endless hours in the early morning.
My name is Olaf…
And I like warm hugs.