I'm Alive

         Hands pull me back into the cold waters of my brain. From the dark edges enveloping my mind, I see them. Snowmen, my brother calls them. Men with icy white skin and hearts as dead as winter’s growth. The quartet encircles me, cautiously. Curiosity and awe grow in the dark eyes at this human girl, alive with warm flesh and blood rushing like a current beneath her skin.
         A woman closes the ring. Her skin shines like starlight, pearlescent and milky like the moon. The silence from them is overwhelming. I try to catch my thoughts, remember my life, but I find them slipping through the cracks of my brain. My skin withdraws at the ferocity of the frozen bodies. The woman looks at me with a kind, familiar smile that warms my heart. I’ve seen her in pictures at my house, holding me on a porch, silhouetted by sunset. She has been near me, part of me.
         With swift motion the four Snowmen all lift their arms. Palms stretch outward as they move en masse. Fingers press into my warm body and my skin screams out in revolt. Icicles stab in my veins, encasing my arms in a light sheen of frost. The woman draws nearer. In her eyes, abundant arrays of color sparkle like dew. With outstretched arms, she falls into me. Shock seizes me as my mind collapses on itself. She melts into my soul, like water in the desert. In my ears, her soft voice echoes, “It’s not time yet.”
         My world bursts like a bubble. Shards of onyx glass break, filling my ears with a music box’s melody. Against the beeping of machines, I hear sad whispers. My dry eyes blink open. My vision is blurry like a Monet painting.
         Gasps echo across the room and I feel my chest take in air.
         I am alive.