It had been a crisp, bitter, and numbing winter night. I had offered to search for her, I wanted to ensure her safety, but Mr. and Mrs. Peterson had attempted to thwart my moves towards it. I can’t keep her out of my mind, it was just the Eve of Christmas that I observed her bubbly personality I’ve always adored with her warm gaze and the next it vanished. Maya was always inspective of aspects containing life, but I had no clue whether r or not this may have gotten her into harm’s way with her commonly arrogant and hardheaded mindset that was specific to her. I was in desperation waiting for an answer, so against better judgment I had gone out into the cascading frosted town, determined to figure it all out. One step in front of the other, I strayed deeper in the snow glazed land that dawned so far.

              The younger we were, the simpler it had been. Always crowding around the swings and her always sticking up for me, even when it jeopardized herself. She ensured I was never hurt by the other kids, always looking out for me and ever since we had just stuck like a magnetic connection that was inseparable. Her parents always adored me, welcomed me into the family, and ensured that I’d feel welcomed and cared for. Once we got into higher grade school, our relationship had shifted and changed along with it. We were still fairly tied together, but she had zoned in more on her studies than socializing, causing our relationship to be slightly impacted but otherwise it was the same. After graduation we had wanted to do something after Maya received her advanced diploma, so we settled on the holidays due to everyone’s schedules being filled to the point of bursting. I was wandering around the airport. the day she would arrive, worried but gratified with her arrival from the gate.

              Christmas eve had been simple, just us two going into the well-lit town glistening with color. We received looks as we walked, but it was normal by now. As we pushed towards the tree, Maya saw a small dog straying around the plaza and aided it to its correct owner nearby. Straying through the crowd, we finally landed at the bakery near the center tree, bustling with business and a long line to top it off. We both waited for as long as we could, but I now believe this was a mistake. Conversation had ensued about careers, Maya brought up her college success so far and I noted aspects of my life as an Art student, which caused the conversation to dwell. “What have you worked on?” and “Have you been able to sell any works?” was brought up profusely while she gave a kiddish look.  

              During the car ride home, I ensured it would be wonderful seeing her parents, but she kept pushing away. She had acted like it was dreadful, as if we should avoid it, as if I was making a grave mistake. I was sitting with anticipation to bring her home since she hadn’t returned since graduation, when her room was redone, redecorated, and refurnished with quite an emotional take from our parents. When we finally arrived, Maya walked through the doorframe rushed, only saying a greeting with a passing glance to Mr. and Mrs. Peterson and aimed for the living room. They were always like this towards her all my life, quickly shifting towards me and what I had done outside during all that time.

 “You could have gotten a cold being out there that long, were you alone?” would always be Mrs. Peterson’s reaction to me staying out later than she expected, but it didn’t feel right that she didn’t address Maya right away. The house was silent when I reached the living room, dawning across the home in its wake. I began walking in Maya’s direction, where she was slumped on the sofa avoiding eye contact.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” was her response, unusually dull.

“There’s something going on, you never act like this..”

“Nothing you should be concerned of, just back off Ollie.” She bolted out of the room, leaving me stumped. She had never done anything like this before, so I was appalled as to why she felt like this. I went after her in the wake of our short argument, but she vanished out the door.

It had been quite a few days and I was beginning to worry. Maya has never acted like this, so I hadn’t known that just bringing her here would ignite this kind of reaction. I opened the door to see a rapid storm of ice and snow pouring down and blocking my view, but now I know exactly where I needed to go. The swing set.

              Racing through the elements, I couldn't see ahead. Running faster and faster, I made out the silhouette of her, bringing hope. I kept repeating she will be there, waiting to present me with her smile and to grace me with her rough lectures. I was dashing, nearly there envisioning her saying with her gentle tone, “Ollie? Are you seriously getting worried over me again? Didn’t I tell you not to do that after last time?”

Once I arrived, I noticed more thick overgrowth in the park than the day before, just barely covered by the flakes falling from the sky. More later observed was a flowering wooden headstone below her favorite swing that we’d always be near squealing while playing. As I began to walk closer to the swing, I saw dark, shriveled blossoms wrapped carefully around the rusted chains. Those chains, once filled with more life now hanged sorrowfully to connect the seat to the beams above as if deprived of everything for a decade. When I began to stray even closer slowly, I could see a picture of a girl only so familiar to me dusted with snow fall and grime.