A Friend for Winter

The cold darkness was overwhelming, but nothing could distract me from the constant jostling, rattling, and intermittent lurching. The dull hum was occasionally interrupted by a whoosh, a screech, a honk, and, on one occasion, even a crash. Focusing on the noise did little to divert my attention from my unbearable discomfort—folded tightly into a space no one should be forced to occupy.

I welcomed the warmth and relative stillness of this new place, but I yearned to be free of my cramped enclosure. A sliver of light brightened my days. Muffled Christmas music played on a loop (I grew tired of it quickly) and there were many other noises: screaming children, overlapping voices. At night, darkness surrounded me again, but the silence was what ate away at me. The quiet was so loud. I came to prefer the days, even as I was knocked over, dropped, kicked, and left on the floor before eventually being put back in my place.

One day I was picked up and placed into a cart and experienced the familiar (but less intense) jerky, uneven movements, accompanied by squeaky wheels. New sounds emerged, beeps and bags rustling, as I bumped into other items around me. I was picked up again, scanned, and placed into a bag.

My next vehicle ride was much shorter than the last and significantly warmer, but it still rattled me. Despite having very little room, all this movement had involuntarily shifted me, making the space feel even more confined than before. Upon arrival, I hoped to be met with a more comfortable atmosphere, but I was thoroughly disappointed. Still in my bag, I was thrown haphazardly onto a shelf in the garage, cold and waiting.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before I was picked up again. I was carelessly handled, but before I could get too annoyed, everything was suddenly bright. The top of my box was opened, and someone was pulling my packed, restricted body out. The relief was instantaneous. Limbs unfurling, a breeze caught the lower half of my body, causing my plastic sheeting to ripple. I was free.

I was carried outside and laid on the ground. Paying no bother to the cold below me, I stared at the blue sky above me. Clouds dancing in front of the sun. Suddenly a motor sounded and a rush of air blew into me. A tickling sensation began as I expanded. The more I was inflated, the more of the world I could see.

Houses, trees, cars, people! So many people: walking, talking, running, driving, biking, playing. Just a sprinkle of snow littered the still green grass. Other holiday decorations dotted the houses along the street. Greens, reds, blues, and so many bright colors I had never experienced before flooded my field of view. Amazed at my new surroundings, I watched the mailman deliver mail, people walk their dogs, trash trucks pick up trash. Everything was a delight to watch. Sometimes I could hear music, people laughing, children playing, dogs barking, and even the occasional siren was a new melody to hear.

But as the sun dropped in the sky, so did the temperature, and as the wind picked up, my joy faded. Snow and sleet pelted me painfully as my body whipped back and forth in the flurry. There would be moments of relief when the storm would die down, and I would think maybe it was over, but my hopes were quickly dashed when a gust would smash into me, leaving me disoriented. When I thought I couldn't be beaten down any further, one of my stakes pulled loose, and I planted face-first into the frozen ground.

Morning couldn't come soon enough. The sun crept into the sky and slowly warmed my back. Before long, I was being pulled upright as the person who brought me home carefully secured my stake back into the ground with a hammer. The day passed much like the one before until a car pulled into the driveway of my new home. A small child jumped out of the backseat with the help of her mom, and as she looked over in my direction, a smile erupted on her face. "A new friend!" she shouted, before running at me at full speed. She was only tall enough to barely reach the middle snowball that made up my body. I'd have done anything to be able to hug her back.

That night, the person who brought me home deflated me before bed, which kept the wind from trying to destroy me. Every morning, I'd be re-inflated just in time to see my new friend off to daycare, and every afternoon she'd come back with a smile and a hug for me. Our own special winter ritual.

As Christmas passed, I watched as other homes slowly took their decor and a sense of dread grew within me. I knew the day would come when I would be placed back in a box and stored until next year. Or even worse, thrown into the dumpster like some of the other unlucky decorations down the block.