Short story: Footprints In The Snow

Fear had kept her captive in her own home. Could she break free?

Chatter and laughter shattered the silence of a normally quiet Saturday morning. Emily glanced up from her book. Hesitantly, she stood up, carefully placed another

log on the fire and stepped

towards the frosted window.

Outside, she saw children attempting to build a rather rotund snowman, but they’d got distracted by a snowball

fight. They tumbled around in the snow, squealing and laughing, and Emily couldn’t

help chuckling at their antics.

At one point, a little boy with very rosy cheeks accidentally kicked the half-made snowman, and its head fell to the ground with

a thud. The small carrot they’d found for a nose got unceremoniously trampled, and the black buttons they’d used for eyes got lost in the

flurry of snow. Emily couldn’t help feeling sorry for the neglected

snowman.

She moved away from the window before they saw her, and stared into the fire. Deep-orange flames were darting up the chimney, and the room was now cosy and warm, yet Emily longed to be embracing the coldness of

the outside. She wanted to

shrug on a thick coat and

Could now be the time? She just wanted

to tryÉ

warm hat, race outdoors and jump, without a care in the world, into the thickly fallen snow.

Then she’d show those children how to really build a snowman!

The thought of crunching snow beneath her feet on her garden path, or scooping it into her hands and letting it fall between her fingers filled Emily with pleasure.

How could she, though?

She had to remain indoors.

She was housebound, and

had been for many years. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to walk in the countryside, to have a romantic meal with her husband Joe in a restaurant, or just to buy bread from the

village shop.

Emily knew that, the moment she opened her front door, all the usual feelings of worry, uncertainty and anxiety would

flood and

overwhelm

her. It was no use – her world was indoors.

Nevertheless, the softly falling snow, the chattering children and the forlorn snowman triggered a yearning

inside Emily. She wanted to

breathe the air and touch the snow, to feel its icy coldness.

The children had raced off – to have their tea, no doubt. Could now be the time? She

just wanted to try... After all, stepping outside would only take a minute – seconds, even – and then she could return to the safety of her home, knowing she had at

least touched the snow.

She could tell Joe later

what she’d done, too. He’d be delighted! So Emily walked steadily

towards her front door. She took a deep breath, and almost immediately felt

dizzy. Suddenly, her heart

began to hammer loudly

in her chest. At the same time as her heart raced, she gasped for breath, opening the door involuntarily.

It swung away from her, banging back on its hinges, alerting her already heightened senses as the outside world swam into

fuzzy focus. Instantly,

everything was too bright

and too loud.

Emily stood on the spot, stock still like a statue, paralysed with fear. A single tear ran down her cheek. She just couldn’t move.

What had she done?

Thoughts tumbled relentlessly through her

mind. Joe was going to find

her like this, frozen to the

spot. What would people think of her?

Despite her unbearable fear, Emily’s eyes found the

snowman. He didn’t really

look like a snowman any

more. His head had become a crumbled mass of snow, and the children had only half-heartedly created his

round body.

A few black buttons were scattered about, and she could just spot the little carrot for his nose peeping up from beneath a mound of

snow, not far from her path.

An image suddenly sprang to Emily’s mind of a jolly snowman, complete with a woolly hat, blue scarf, coal buttons, green-button eyes, and twigs for arms and a mouth. She gulped, clinging to the door frame for support. She’d moved, thank goodness, but she was frozen to the

core. Perhaps if she stood

like this for a little while, the

anxiety would ebb away.

She focused on the snowcapped hills beyond

her garden. She’d stared at them so many times through her bedroom window. Their beauty mesmerised her and, somehow, her fretfulness began to ease.

She was surrendering to her anxiety – and, now she was outside, she could actually feel something like joy! It was like a growing bubble of happiness

enveloping her and filling her emptiness with warmth. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt anything like this, if she ever really had in her life.

She knew exactly what she wanted to do – what she

needed to do. She turned around. There was no time to waste!

She could still feel unease in the pit of her stomach, and her vision was far from perfect, but her legs were no longer weak, and her heart wasn’t beating so fast. She’d

be fine, she knew it.

Leaving her door slightly open, Emily climbed the stairs to her bedroom. There,

she flung open her wardrobe door, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She quickly removed her thick, woollen coat from the back of the wardrobe and gazed at it in wonder. She’d forgotten what it looked like!

Eagerly, she opened drawers and pulled out everything she needed. Then she raced downstairs and sped into the kitchen. She knew what else she wanted and just where

to find it.

By the time Emily had reached her front door, her apprehension had all but gone – but now she faced the real challenge…

Without wasting another moment, she stepped outside and shrugged off years of isolated unhappiness and

She couldn’t wait to tell him she had joined the world again!

despair. She took another couple of steps, breathed in the fresh, icy air and glanced behind her as if to remind herself of her past, restricted life.

Her house stood there, familiar and glowing cheerfully amidst the whiteness of this stunning winter wonderland.

Emily’s feet sank into the snow, and she giggled and looked behind her again, but this time it was to see that she was creating fresh, new footprints. She felt like she was treading on a new world – her own brave, new world.

Slowly and carefully, she built her snowman, amazed at her ability to do so. It had been such a long time since she’d been able to do anything without there being a hint of a tremble or a gasp of breath. Now, though, she was able to mould the snowman’s head without her hands shaking, and she pressed the black coal buttons into his robust body without the need for any hard breathing.

She’d forgotten this feeling of peace, and she couldn’t wait for Joe to come home and see just what she’d achieved. She couldn’t wait to tell him she had joined the world again! As soon as he opened the door, Emily rushed towards him, her face beaming, her eyes alight.

‘I did it!’ she giggled ecstatically. ‘I actually did it!’

She dragged him, laughing, to the living room window. They stood together as Emily jumped up and down in her excitement, like a child, gesturing wildly to the garden outside.

Joe had supported and cared for Emily while some of their friends and family had not always understood her anxiety. He understood just how much she’d longed to be free from the restraints of her fear, and how helpless she’d felt at the very thought of going outside.

Now, as he looked into his wife’s eyes, he saw the spirit there that he thought had gone forever – a sparkle and vitality he’d believed he’d never see again. A bubble of hope rose within him.

‘I made the snowman,’ she gasped. ‘I did it on my own. I went out there and made it!’

Joe looked at the fat snowman sitting comfortably on the snowy grass. His long, carrot nose was wonky, his knitted scarf askew, but his green button eyes gleamed in the late sun, and he beamed back at them with his twiggy mouth. He was the very epitome of a jolly snowman. The local children would admire him very much.

But could it really be true? Emily hadn’t been outdoors for 10 years…

Then Joe saw the footprints in the snow, leading from their house to the snowman – more than once – and then around the snowman. It was quite clear that they came from their home!

With incredulous delight, Joe turned to look at his beautiful, clever wife, and he realised with admiration all she’d accomplished.

‘Oh, Emily,’ he whispered into her hair, as he embraced her. ‘That was so very brave! How did you do it?’

‘I just wanted to live again,’ she replied, unable to tear herself away from the view outside. ‘I realised I wanted that more than ever, and that, with true acceptance of the anxiety, the feelings would subside and I’d be able go outside. It was wonderful.’

‘You know what this means now, don’t you?’ Joe said, as he suddenly lifted her up into the air and laughed at her delighted expression. ‘We can climb the hills together, one day.’

‘We can!’ said Emily, marvelling at how calm she felt as she swung her around in strong his arms to gaze at the hills from the window.

They were breathtaking in their snowcapped beauty, and they’d been waiting patiently for her to explore them all this time.

‘I’ll climb the very highest one!’ she promised.

This time, they went outside, hand in hand, to make fresh, new footprints in the snow, creating their new world together.

THE END Rebecca Mansell, 2019