crunch—              
                                            crunch—
                                                                     crunch—

       Light footprints broke through untrodden snow, leaving remains of those who once traversed there.

                                                      She was { a l o n e}

      Azure hues gazing over the intricate crystals that held hands, joined in one large blanket that covered the Earth as far as she could see. It was вєαυтιƒυℓ. No one could appreciate it the way she did.

      The distinct lack of noise was deafening. Silence so loud it bounded off the mountains and back. Covering the plains of crystalline glamour. It always starts far and distinct. The crying of a child. Soft and sorrowful but it grows like a steady beating drum until it is the mournful wails of many.

      It is seen as steam first, raising up over the frigid landscape. Gaze travels downward to find the source and where there was lazy snow hills, there now lay glacial spikes. Men, women, children, infants— no one has been spared from their abrupt growth.

      The pale white gas wisps above as thick warm liquid pools in the snow. Dying it red. It infects every crystal. Spreads further and further— with a sickening 
       
                                       plip
                                                            plip
                                                                                     plip

   Frenzied footsteps carry her backward. She cannot look away, choking on the sounds that threaten to erupt from her throat and yet— she can’t decide on one so nothing comes. She gasps to swallow them down. Screams, sobs, anguished cries.

       There is no away. She is surrounded by it. The red darkening as it dries, but not before it creeps up her heel.

                                                                 ”Ｎｏ… ”

       Pleads met with nothing but wails, and it continues. The edge of her blue dress stained with the offending crimson. The crystals are stained, dirty, they can never be clean again. 

                                            “ｎｏ
                                                     ｎｏ
                                                              ｎｏ
                                                                       ｎｏ— “

         A cry rips from her throat as her hands press over her face in an attempt to hide the sight. But she knows it’s there. She can feel the sticky warmth on her skin.

                                                                                       & it will ηєνєя go away