Slowly, sadly I stroll the brick-laden streets of Mineral Town, in a state of sorrow so thick that I've completely lost all senses of organization, direction, or any kind of orientation. Frail snowflakes float around me. I'm cold.
Cold and very much alone.
I need to get home…I just need to get home…
I am lost in the town I grew up in. I know these streets like I know myself, but I just can't find my way.
My long red braid sways behind me, and in my sudden anger I want to chop it off. I want to rip of the straps of my overalls, tear my boyish undershirt away, and lie here naked in the snow. I want him to see what he has done to me.
Ann! I shout to myself inside my head. I have to get a hold of myself. I'm smarter, stronger, better than this…I am Ann, and I don't take crap like this from people, especially men! People don't mess with me!
But I've been wounded. With each slow throb of my pathetic, aching heart comes another blow of pain. I feel thirsty, but I want nothing to drink, hungry, but I cannot eat, tired, but I could never bring myself to sleep.
I stop walking and stand in the middle of Rose Square alone. Suddenly I am trembling. I realize I have left my coat at his house.
My coat is at his house.
Well, he can just keep it. Maybe it will remind him…maybe it will make him realize everyday when he looks up at it that…that…
Oh, so badly I want to hate him!
With quaking hands I reach up to touch my forehead. I massage it roughly, pressing my skin as hard as I can and churning it in ragged circles. My ponytail feels too tight, and with frustration I tear out the stupid white ribbon and angrily pull out the rubber band, running unsteady fingers through the braid to unravel it. My scalp aches as I force my hair to part in the middle.
I am haggard and angry. I feel like all purpose for my life has been stripped away.
I stand alone, cold, and wounded in Rose Square.
Finally my legs give out, and I predictably fall to the ground. I sink a few inches into the thick, wet snow. In a stupor, I lie and wait for my body to numb in the cold. I am not thinking, but I guess I just figure my soul will somehow numb, too.
I am periodically switching between extreme anger and extreme sorrow, and suddenly wish it wasn't so. I don't want to be like this. I am Ann, and I am too good for this. As I lie here without purpose in the snow, I face the biggest decision I'll ever make in my life.
Am I going to remain lying here or am I going to stand?
Insignificant the decision may seem to the unknowing eye, but it is this seemingly simple question that ultimately decides my fate. Though the choice seems quite plain, it stands in my mind as the single most complex decision I will ever face. Gradually regaining my composure, I consider my options.
Simply put, lying in the snow equals death. My life officially ends, even if I am rescued by some well-meaning villager. That would only be bodily life. The life of my heart, the life of my soul, would be over. I would die, sadly, tragically, and with pain.
I think about standing up. I don't know if I would be able to muster up that much strength. I am wounded. The blows of pain are still coming, constant, steady, certain, with every throb of my ever-aching heart.
Shivering, I realize that my fingers could fall right off and I wouldn't know. I am completely numb, and though I am no longer cold, I am still alone.
I am Ann, and this is nonsense. I am standing, and that's final. I will live my life, and I will get through this. There's got to be a happy ending somewhere.
Happiness seems so far away, and as I try to remember a time of happiness, nothing comes to mind. My heart simply cannot digest the idea of joy.
Then is life truly worth living? Am I really better off standing? If I stand, will I ever be happy?
I am beginning to think it might be better to lie in the snow after all.
"Ann?" A masculine voice is echoing around me, but I can't decipher exactly where it's coming from. Is it my father? I don't know. My head is swimming, and I am again utterly disoriented.
Where am I again? I cannot remember what's going on, and I don't care to. All I know is that my body is aching with every slow, shaky throb of my sorrowful heart.
"Ann! Ann, what are you doing? ANN!" The voice is really loud, and I close my eyes tightly as though I can dull the noise. I do not know that I am lying prostrate on my back, vulnerably sunken in the wet, freezing snow, arms outstretched, fiery red hair sprawling all around me. I do not even know who I am at the moment.
Suddenly everything goes deathly black, but I can't really tell the difference anyway.
I am lying in a wide space. All around me is light, sunshine. I open my eyes to face a perfect baby blue sky, dotted with breezy white clouds and lit with the brilliance of the sun. I feel grass beneath me and slowly run my hand over the even blades. A feeling of bliss invades my senses. I am overcome with beauty.
Sitting up, I look down at myself and realize that I am gorgeous. Dressed in a long, pretty white skirt that falls around my toes and an off-the-shoulder brown top with a black halter underneath. My feet are bare, and I feel free. With a forgetful smile I finger my hair, which falls down my back in huge, soft red curls. Silver hoops adorn my ears, and I notice a playful ring on my long toe. I feel drop-dead beautiful.
In awe, I wonder where I could be. I remember the sadness from what seemed moments before but cannot comprehend it in the midst of such splendor. Instead I'm feeling rather gleeful and unwilling to recall such a sorrowful memory.
Except…I am still alone…
I stand to my feet and begin to walk. All that is in my vision is abounding grassy hills, sunshine, and blue skies. Not a flower, nor any kind of animal, just…rolling hills of grass as far as the eye can see. It is by far, doubtlessly, the most beautiful thing my eyes have yet come upon.
Except I am alone.
Though the fact gets me to wondering, I refuse to let it hinder the uprising of joy within me. I walked slowly, dreamily, my arms swaying wistfully, my hair blowing slightly to my left shoulder in the gentle breeze. The grass feels pleasant on my bare toes. I inhale the air blissfully. Overwhelmed with happiness, I hope I never have to leave this place. I choose not to ponder where I may be, for fear of wasting away the time. I do not know how long I will be permitted to remain. I close my eyes and use my other senses to firmly inscribe this moment in my memory.
When I open them, I am somewhat unpleasantly startled to discover that am standing face to face with no other person than the man I wish I could forget.
As always, the first thing I notice are his eyes, those gorgeous, dark green, moist, glimmering, infatuating eyes. His brows are uplifted in an expression that spells apology. His lips are pressed gently together, accentuated by his adorable, slight dimples. His forehead is shadowed only a little by the shaggy brown hair that protrudes untidily from his boyish blue ball cap. Running my eyes over him, I take in his slender shoulders, clothed in a striped, long-sleeved cotton button down, which hangs open upon his chest to reveal a simple beater shirt, his worn, wispy jeans, and his bare feet.
He only adds to the beauty of this place.
Cocking my head to the side a little, I think in silence about him. I suppose that he may only be adorable to me because I know the man inside of his thin, boyish body. The man inside is thoughtful. He remembers things about you and mentions them continually, causing this wonderful loved feeling inside your heart. He is funny, constantly smiling, laughing, seeking fun. He is loving, caring, and builds friendships with nearly everyone he meets.
And for a time…it seemed he loved me.
"Ann." My name on his lips, to me, is like a wonder of God.
That is all that is said for what seems an eternity. I am, however, content to simply look intently into those marvelous green eyes…
The boy steps closer. I inch forward nervously, though I am not sure why. Things between us will never advance. A tear comes to my reluctant eye as I remember that we will never be more than friends. As it falls down my cheek, I reach up to wipe it away with my thumb, but he beats me to it. Before I fully know what is happening, his vaguely calloused hand is gently stroking my face.
"Ann," he repeats, and I look to the sky, expecting to see some form of God descending from the clouds. I can see in those gorgeous eyes that he is at a loss for words, and I cannot blame him, for I also do not know what to say.
He inches forward visibly and very ungracefully…But his boyish clumsiness is one of the things I most love about him. I know what he is preparing to do, and in spite of my reputation as a bossy, stubborn country girl, I do not have the will-power to fight it. I am weak and utterly hopeless as far as any form of romance is concerned.
I bend under the spell of his charm, which I feel I alone can sense, and allow his lips to press quite firmly against my own. His hand has not left my face, and I do not intend for it to, so with my right hand I ensure the immovability of his precious touch as I return his kiss. I feel as though we have been lifted into the air, although the grass still tickles the soles of my feet.
I've never kissed a man before, so it is surprising to me that this moment with Jack seems so natural, so easy, so smooth…like it's been in every dream that ever graced my slumber since the day I laid my eyes on him.
Oh, crap. Suddenly I realize what's going on, where I am, what this is. Crap, I'm in a dream! This is all a dream! I should have known that! I should have known that when he started kissing me! And now, when I wake up, I'll be sadder than ever…
