This year, the winter was freezing for the inhabitants of Bleecker Street. The severe snowfall dumped the white sheets everywhere; rooftops, on and by the streets, vehicles, everything was engulfed by the thick snow. But as hard as the circumstances were, a smile did not fade in their features, because, snow, she was always a beauty. A beauty that made their childhoods remarkable, their memories sweeter, but at times, she also left sorrowful memories.
Jamie drew her jacket closer to escape the howling winds and the freezing snow. She embraced herself tighter like she always did; not just in winter, not only in the coldness but the way she did it, from the day her family left her all alone in this novel world. Her father, her mother, they were all she ever had; A single child, raised with all the love, all the care, only to lose it all to an accident. And it was her, the snow, that took them away from her. But Jamie continued to love the snow; the snowmen they built, the Christmases they spent together, those were all the memories she had left with her. And she was afraid of losing those memories too; they were all she had.
It had been four years; everyone says that’s enough to move on. It might be enough to move on, but for someone who had felt nothing else in their entire life, it was losing the world they cherished. They had to rebuild a new one; one that might be happier, or, but Jamie had never thought of it. She stuck to her daily routine; office, home, and striving to sleep. The stillness of the nights always brought the memories back, and to find herself alone when she opened her eyes, it haunted her. Today was just another one of those sleepless nights, that was when Jamie decided to go on a stroll late that night.
The snow froze the entire town; there was not a single soul in the streets. It was what Jamie loved now, being alone. She walked through the pavement, observing the gorgeous decorations families have done together. She also loved Christmas; when she could decorate everything and her mother would help her arrange, but not anymore. Her house now had no decoration, no fancy lights, no happiness.
Jamie was feeling better now; the void in her heart filled with the coldness of the snow. It was better than the sadness; fighting the cold helped her fight the memories. When she approached the corner of the street under the lamppost, she paused. She gazed up at the sky. She could see the picture of a beautiful woman carved by Athena into the stars; Andromeda.
“And Athena carved her image among the stars so that the world would remember her.” The mother looked Jamie in her gorgeous green eyes, her arms enveloping the little child in her warmth. But, the girl was frightened by the story she told her. “What is it, my little angel?” her fingers stroked through Jamie’s brown hair. “Will you ever let me go?” the little child asked, her voice cracking as she spoke. The mother sighed, “I will never leave your side. Even when I am gone, I will always, always be right here for you.” she laid her palm on Jamie’s little chest. She kissed her on the forehead and held her tighter, “Always.”
Jamie returned to the present on the sight of something unusual. When she helped herself focus, Jamie discovered who intervened her thoughts; a shooting star. Never in her life had Jamie contracted with a shooting star. Soon enough, the popular myth took possession of her mind; tell your hidden desires to the shooting star, and she will help you achieve them. The notion was childish enough, but no superstition has ever managed to survive a curious mind; no matter whether it belonged to an atheist or a religious preacher, they always prevailed. And Jamie herself fell prey to this juvenile joke, but her desire was nothing more than what she yearned for every moment of her life; if only I could get them back.
It was the howling winds that brought her back to reality, from a longing so implausible. Jamie bent down her head at the thought; I will never get them back, how many times do I have to convince myself that? She pulled down her purple winter cap, blanketing her ears, and walked back to her house; no, it wasn’t her home. She locked herself inside, and drew the thick blanket over her head, shrunk in, her thighs close to her chest, to escape the cold. Jamie revived their faces for one last time and settled into the shade of the sleep.
The next morning, Jamie woke up to a strange set of noises. She pulled the blanket off and strolled downstairs, neglecting the need for more sleep to recover. The noises grew clearer as Jamie was getting closer; someone was inside her home. But the noises did not terrify her; it drew her closer and closer until finally, she reached the living room to collide into someone. The lady turned around letting out a short scream, not born of fear, surprise or pain, but rather a pleasant one.
Jamie nearly collapsed backwards in shock. She did lose her balance, but two arms clasped her tighter than any fall could pull her; the strength of a mother. Jamie could not help but stare into the blue eyes of this blonde woman; she had craved to see those eyes so long. Jamie embraced her with all her strength, squishing her inside her arms. The mother, with tears in her eyes, said something very faint for the world to hear, ”My little angel.”
A few blocks away, Chris Jordan, a young man in his late twenties, sped through the streets. He was in search of his associate, who was supposed to meet him by then. Chris was in a light brown hoodie to be more secretive while in the streets; they always maintained their distance from the regular world. When Chris turned into the nearest alley, he spotted the person he was seeking. A tall, lean man was leaning on the wall, facing the opposite side, stationary as if pondering something. When Chris approached the tall gentleman; he found what the blue eyes were watching; the sight of a joyous reunion.
“Does she know about the contract yet?” Jordan enquired in his hoarse voice, pulling his friend off his delusion. Oscar lowered his head, not knowing what to say, “No, she doesn’t. Not yet.” Chris now stared away from him; Setting his eyes somewhere distant, Jordan continued concealing his sentiments, “We might want to tell her soon.” Oscar just nodded; he could not even perceive the pain of giving someone hope, only to take it away. “Well, we cannot stay here. At least, not in these streets.” Jordan continued. They held their hands together, Oscar’s head still drooped, and all of a sudden, the alley was empty.