Winter...

Winter never was my favorite season, I mean sure there's Christmas and all the family time but winter never sat right with me. They say that the change of the seasons can bring on depression, seasonal depression disorder or whatever it's called. For me, the winter is more like a frozen hug. It's like you're wrapped in somebody's arms but rather than being provided warmth it freezes you to your core. The cold icy fingers of winter had their grasp on me and I could feel myself turning colder. Winter is one of those seasons that seems to drag by so slowly, but also will drag you if you're being too slow. The time before the holidays can go one of two ways, you either are done shopping and everything drags until Christmas day or you haven't shopped at all and suddenly you wake up and it's Christmas eve. After the holidays and into the new year is a whirlwind, January typically flies by quickly but the rest of the months slow down as winter creeps to an end in March. The only thing winter had to offer me was you.

Sandra Morales was gorgeous through and through, outside and inside the girl shone with perfection and beauty. She was the new student starting three weeks before winter break, but all I saw was the sun amid the frozen tundra. She was the silent type, brooding but smart. She only spoke briefly and when she did it was like hearing a beautiful melody for the first time again and again. Every day the tone of her voice or the strength behind it would change. I didn't think it was possible for someone to be so interesting. The day that my life started anew was the day that I officially met you.

December 1st

It was the first day back after Thanksgiving break and I was exhausted. I looked like my typical self dressed in jeans and a hoodie, trying to hide myself from everyone. I was always the first one to class and always the last one that left, people thought I was a freak and I let them believe it because it was easier than telling everybody the truth. But today was different, I walked into the hallway and smelled cinnamon with a hint of vanilla. The scent overwhelmed my senses and made the hair on my arms stand up. To a degree, I hate cinnamon but I also enjoy it's smell. This was one of the rare times I was between disgust and enjoyment. I walked to class, watching the floor as I carefully made sure not to bump into anybody. I was just past the first floor bathroom when somebody shouted, "Where are you off to freak? Doing a battle with your self esteem in the bathroom? Running off to hide, from everything because life is too scary?" Rodney Ryerson had always had a bone to pick with me, perhaps because I refused to be his girlfriend freshman year or that time I didn't dance with him at the eighth grade dance. Regardless, he's had a target on my back for years and I've always slipped his terrifying grasp but apparently today isn't my lucky day. Rodney walked up to me and as he grew closer the smell of stale cigarettes and old spice shot up my nostrils, I gagged on the scent. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled my hood down to expose my hazel eyes and chestnut hair. I looked in his eyes and saw desire, but I also saw rage and a fire that meant someone had pissed him off for the first and last time today. He grabbed my locks and stared into my eyes, I suppose hoping to see fear or distress but I hardened my gaze and cocked an eyebrow. "Fucking queen of the gays, can't even tell when she's on her last leg and should beg for mercy." He spits at me and at this point a crowd has begun to form, as the crowd grows I know that Rodney will only start getting nastier. He sneers at me and puts his mouth to my ear, "listen up and do as I say or you won't be walking for weeks." His gritty voice scrapes itself against my ears and my head shoots away from his. "This freak has to pay for her sins against humanity and should cower among us." He shouts into the crowd getting a huge cheer in return. He tugs on my hair and slams my head into the wall. The crowd screams ushering him on. By this point I feel my head spinning, but I've never been one to let a little agony stop me. The school bell rings and the crowd starts to dissipate, Rodney spits at me one more times and scoffs walking out high fiving his friends. I brush off the dust on my shirt and attempt to look like I haven't been harassed, I rush off to class and my breath gets caught as the scent of cinnamon and vanilla overwhelm me once again. I'm one of the last people in class and I lower my head trying to find a seat, I spot a seat right in front of the teacher's desk and one in the middle row. I try to walk to the seat when Melissa Porder pushes by me and takes the seat in the middle row, I hang my head and sit in the front row. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla is intoxicating at this point and when I look over, I catch your eye staring at me pensively.