It's snowing. It has been for what seems like ages. The warm, sunny, green sights seem like years away, and mere foggy memories. They don't seem like they can be real.

They have to be though- I mean, if it was never green here, in my birth town, then we'd all be expecting this. Be ready for the snow. But, we aren't, and groans of real pain and fear come about when we hear that we'll have another snow storm. It's completely, irrevocably Insane!

And, I know I shiver as well to hear about this snow. I imagine, as I press my cheek to the cold pane of glass, that beyond my shivering form, and foggy window, that this is all green. The evergreens aren't a shade off, a bluish hue of green. They're dark, pure green, almost a black. They're beautiful.

And the trees! The trees! They're swaying lightly in the breeze because even the slightest wind can make their green-leaved bodies sway. They are seas of whitish green, and pretty, light green. They swarm together, and the parts of brown- the branches stick out amungst them, giving them a soul in this beautiful painting.

And the grass- The grass is green, and it's almost shining, because it just got done raining, and the droplets weren't heavy enough to fall off of the blades. The grass seems like small fields of wheat- which is in the little farm-area right next to it. That- the sun shines lightly up in the cloudy blue sky, and the wheat gleams an ancient, Mayan gold.

Oh, it's so beautiful, and it doesn't necessarily have to be warm. But, I'm warm all the same, because I'm in my favorite, little white jacket that only comes out in the spring. And my white necklace- my seashell necklace- I always wear that in the spring too. I reach up to feel the reassuring pendant hanging from my neck.

But, I open my eyes. My cheek, and the side of my forehead is numb, and I look at the mirror. The one half of my face is almost completely red. It's already starting to burn, and I hope no one notices. My necklace isn't on, but I wouldn't be able to know. The scratchy sound of this five hundred winter jacket- green and puffy- reminds me that I look like a marshmallow.

I can't even bear to look outside. I close my eyes as I get off the bus. I'm going to cry if I see another pile of snow. I'm going to just die- I'm going to be sick to my stomach, and hate life, and be the unhappiest person on planet earth-

I was the first one off. I was the first innocent to be gotten by the snow monster. I stepped off of the bus, and found the earth was closer to the first step of the bus than I'd expected. I open my eyes only to see white flooding all around me, engulfing me in it's mass of terror. I try to scream, and can feel that someone else has fallen onto me.

I can't move. I'm making a snow angel on the wrong side of my body- and I'm sinking deeper and deeper as it goes on. The weight behind me shifts a bit. The weight completely disappears. I can't scream, because I have a snow cone in my mouth. I can't move because I've gone in a few feet to this mass. I'm going to faint, I hate the snow, and now I'm going to die in the snow! This is Insane!

Then, I feel a hand on my back. It feels like they're pushing me further in- Oh I'm having a panic attack now... Then, the pull me out. Like I was as light as a feather, like I didn't have my marshmallow jacket on, and wasn't soaked to the core.

I cough out the snow, and the bus drives away. Now, the hand from my back is on my shoulder. I look up, and choke. It has to be (On my list, at least) the fifth cutest guy in school. He's not my crush, but really? I think he just made first place...

Maybe snow was a gift. A precious gift sent from the gods. I'm going to start praying every night, and I start considering doing anything- even rituals for these gods who brought me snow, and beautifully orchestrated, unimaginable circumstances.

He doesn't really say anything, and kind of blushes when he starts to walk away. He's talking over his shoulder, but I can't really hear him. I think I have snow in my ears.

Suddenly, I see him start to go down, falling, but I can't tell if it's really him, or if I'm the one falling. I hit the ground and hit my head off of the pavement. I look up, and see that he has too. We look at one another, pain streaked across our faces. Then, he smiles, and I can't help it- I smile back too. I see him start to make a snowball, and I make one too. We throw, and both miss. We fall into giggling fits of laughter. I ask him if he wants to come back to my house for Cocoa or tea, and to get warmed up. He accepts, and says he'll be down in ten. I smile, my heart exploding with joy.

Five days later, I have the bruises, and four days ago, we had found out that I had broken my forearm. So, I can't tell if the snow is bad, or good. That's your choice. But, something else that I have fated to my evil snow?

He came down in five.