The Snow's Eclipse

An old phrase says to do everything once. Millie Brande never followed the rules: she killed her family twice. In her eyes, she committed the greatest sin. She would never forgive herself. She took away the very life she'd created with a few minutes time. Stuff like this shouldn't happen. A perfect life tore apart from a single mistake. All the cruel world needed fell in its grasp; one distraction changed everything.

Snow fell different on the lake. A deafening silence forced on everything each snowflake touched. Slowly melding everything into a blank canvas, erasing what came before. The instant blinding flurries fell, the world paused. Easy to forget the landscape; where the bank ended, and the water started. Most depend on their vision to guide them. Once everything looks the same, memory starts to become unreliable.

In the yard sinking with each step, Katie bounded to the tree line. Her little red coat the only thing marking her presence in the vastness of white. The second time they played outside in a day always dragged on longer. Every day started the same for the past three weeks. Diamonds in the drifts winking back at the sun lit the entire interior. The smell of breakfast and the promise of spending the day outside drew them from their room. Millie smiled each time. It was like they’d already forgotten.

Their move into the cabin in winter was a gamble, but the rent offered a low price, and Millie received part of her husband's insurance payout. Twenty thousand dollars in funds would last for a while, and they needed a new home. It was a chance to start over, to escape what happened. Lingering in the town he died in was too much. Each time leaving their old apartment became a journey.

They had been driving home after a long day out running errands. Sunset was getting earlier each day, and Millie wanted to be home before the weather got worse. Matthew had a couple beers at the restaurant they ate at, so Millie drove home. She didn't like driving at night, to begin with, and coupling that with the increasing snowfall spiked her anxiety with each mile.

A glance in the rear view mirror shown Katie and Sophia to be asleep. Headlights from oncoming traffic lighting up their faces. They had always looked innocent when sleeping, even from a baby. Matthew swore they got it from him.

Millie's breath hitched with each snow-covered curve. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed away from the bad roads and the stress of daily life. Right as she was thinking of how close they were to home, the car jolted slightly.

"What was that?" She asked panicking.

"I think you just hit a pile of snow," Matthew mumbled, looking in the right-side mirror. The car jolted once more, and a grinding sound followed it.

"Matthew? Should I pull over?" Millie hurriedly, trying not to raise her voice too much.

"Crap, yeah. It's a flat." He said, sighing.

Once the car was pulled far enough on the shoulder, Matthew rounded to the flat tire. Millie heard him swearing from inside the car. Her anxiety was rising again when she realized the tire was on the roadside of the car. He knocked on her window, motioning for her to roll it down.

"Hand me the black notebook in the glove compartment." He spoke, "It has my dad's instructions in it for the tires."

Millie handed the dusty, scratched notebook through the window. Stains shown on part of the cover and the bottom edge. She forced a smile. "Be careful."

A few minutes went by, and she kept her eyes on Matthew the whole time, making sure he stayed off the road. The hazard lights would do only so much in conditions like this. She didn't want to leave the car on either in fear of the battery dying. He knocked on the driver's door window, smiling. Millie waved, and he waved back and unrolled the window to hear him.

"All done." He grinned.

"Thank god. You pack up quick so we can leave. The roads are probably getting worse." Millie sighed.

"You're right. Just give me a minute."

"What's going on?" Katie spoke from the back-catching Millie's attention. She turned in her seat toward the girls. Sophia was still asleep.

"We're alright We had to pull over for a few minutes," Millie said. She didn't want to worry Katie. "Go back to sleep."

Katie nodded and closed her eyes again. Millie's eyes lingered on her daughter's face for a moment. A small smile on her face. Tires screeching startled her, and she swung back around looking out the open window. Her heart dropped from her chest when her eyes found Matthew again.

One moment he was standing next to the car. The next he was gone. A truck swerved around the curve and swiped their car in the exact spot Matthew was standing, then spun out, landing in the ditch. A scream ripped from Millie's throat when she saw red splattered against the fresh snow. Matthew's orange scarf laying where he once stood, along with the black notebook.

Millie's eyes followed her daughters chase each other from the porch. Most of the time, she stayed on the swing. As much as they liked the weather, they couldn't convince her to go out in it too. To her, the snow faked purity. It had taken away their father. Confliction weighed heavy on her chest as they scampered through it. Her love for their happiness fought harder than the hatred she felt for the snow.

An excited scream erupted from the tree line. The wind dusted Katie and Sofia with snow from the branches above them. Millie mentally kicked herself for getting Sophia's winter coat in cream. The only way she knew where her daughters played in the yard was Katie's coat and the bright pink sled they pulled around. One of the girls would tie the rope around them and act like a sled dog. It was cute.

"Don't go too far out!" Millie shouted. She agreed to let the girls play only if she sat outside too. The landlord that greeted her on their move-in day only described the property briefly. There were a few pictures of the interior and the yard in the summer. Her daughters were excited to see the beachfront. Millie couldn't tell exactly where the water started in the photos and didn't want to risk it with how much snow was on the land now.

"We will!!" Katie shouted in response and started pulling Sophia on the sled toward the house.

"Do you guys want some lunch yet?" Millie asked. Breakfast had been several hours ago. The girls had to be hungry by now.

"Yeah!" They yelled in unison and ran toward Millie. The girls kicked their boots off on the porch and ran inside. They didn't bother taking off their coats, planning to go back out right after they ate.

"You haven't had enough of the snow yet? Don't you want to stay inside for a bit?" She asked.

"No! I love it out there." Katie said from the table, and Sophia nodded with her.

"Mr. Snowman is out there, and he needs us to play with him. He gets lonely." Sophia said. Millie didn't remember seeing them build a snowman anywhere.

Half an hour later, when they finished. Katie was hopping up and down by the sliding glass door, waiting to go out again. Sophia had screamed for her to wait and ran to the bathroom.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait a little while longer in here?" Millie questioned when Sophia returned. She was hoping the girls would agree. "There are just a couple things I need to get done for work on my computer. Could you wait for that?"

"Noooo!" Sophia whined, "Mr. Snowman has been outside by himself for too long."

"Soph is right!" Katie said, pouting. Millie sighed; she didn't want to force her daughters to stay inside.

"I know!" Sophia said, throwing an arm up excitedly. "You can do your computer job here at the table! Then you can watch us through the big door window."

"How will I know if you are going out too far?" Millie retorted. She was a bit hesitant at that idea.

"We'll stay by the trees! You said there's no water by the trees, right?" Katie said.

Millie sighed; they didn't let up. "Alright, fine. But after I'm done with work, you have to come in for a few hours. Can you do that for me?"

"YES!" The girls said at the same time. Within a moment, the sliding door was open, and the girls were putting on their boots for the third time. Millie wrapped her husband's orange scarf around Sophia, hoping it would help make her stand out against the snow.

"Stay where I can see you, and don't go past the trees!" Millie called out after them as they raced toward wherever they thought Mr. Snowman was.

Millie set up her laptop on the table. There were plenty of emails she needed to respond to, it would take a while. Every few minutes, she looked up from her computer and stared at the girls. They stayed around the same area each time.

Several emails later, Millie finished. She sighed and stretched her arms in front of her. Millie stood from the table and went toward the door. Her breath hitched when she didn't spot the girls right away but then caught sight of Katie's red coat and the sled. Sophia sat on the sled again, the orange scarf shining in the sun. She was reaching forward, piling snow on the sled. Millie smiled at the sight. They could be occupied by the simplest things.

The sled shifted a bit. Millie opened the sliding door to look closer; it didn't look like Katie had moved at all. She could see the girls clearly through the slow snowfall. Time slowed down when the sled shifted again. It was moving downwards. She stood frozen in place as she watched the sled dip once more, then vanish out of sight. A blood-curdling scream sounded, piercing through the snow into Millie's chest. A single moment later, Katie's red coat moved forward and vanished, following the sled.

Millie's body moved on its own. She ran forward, forgetting shoes or a coat. The snow under her froze her feet as she sprinted. Her breathing became ragged, and her vision tunneled where the girls were. The only thought on her mind was the lake. How could she been so stupid? She knew the lake wasn't visible under the piles of snow. The girls wouldn't of known.

She could no longer feel her feet or face from the wind. Moving forward was the only thing she could do, but it hurt. Every movement of her limbs set her nerves on fire. Fighting to walk against the several feet of snow that had already fallen seemed impossible. Millie had to move on. She had to make it to her girls. They were the last part of her alive.

It seemed like hours passed when she finally made it to the spot. Her body trembled. From the snow or shock, it didn't matter. She dropped to the snow when she noticed a hole a few feet around, water sloshing around in it. Her hands barely worked enough to dial 911. Her eyes never left the hole as she spoke frantically, waiting for her daughters to come back.

Hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her from the ground. The emergency rescue team moved her from the hole. She struggled, tears streaming down her face. A sob tore from her throat when she saw her husband's orange scarf rise to the surface of the water. This was her own fault. It was just like the road.