Frost

The truck bounced against the divots in the gravel road, its aged joints and axles squealing with protest. The cab was chilly and I tightened the bundle of blankets around my legs. The heating system was barely up to par compared to my newer car, but sadly it wouldn’t have made the journey on the back roads.

The undercarriage of the truck rattled as I drove over the rickety bridge, signaling my journey was nearing its end. I held my breath as I crossed it, an old game my sister and I used to play. Through the winding trees, I spotted the old cabin growing bigger. I took the last turn at a snail's pace, remembering how much water accumulated from the rain. My father had told my sister and I stories about how he had nearly lost his first car by drifting against the icy patch in the road one winter.

I approached the cabin and the tires crunched against the snow as I parked. My sweaty palms were slick against the wheel as I stared up at the snow covered cabin, white flakes still falling through the air. I get out of the truck, grabbing my old duffel bag, tossing it over my shoulder as I slammed the door shut. I gripped the hand rail as I stepped up the porch stairs, ensuring myself that I'd avoid a tumble.

The sound of birds taking off made me jump, my shoulder hitting the trim of the front door. I felt a shiver dance through my body and took the property keys from the pocket. After a few failed attempts, I was hurrying through the door and locking the door behind me. I dropped my duffel bag on the floor, glancing around at the once familiar surroundings.

I had spent many summers here as a kid, running through the house with my sister and parents. This place was a big part of my childhood and I smiled at the warm memories. I reached out, touching the notches we had carved into the threshold that led into the living room, marking heights as we grew each year. Tears brimmed my eyes as I touched the last notch that was ever carved in this house.

The last notch had been carved for my sister, Sophie, when she was just fifteen and I was seventeen. A tear escaped my eyes and fell down my cheeks. I leaned forward, placing a kiss against the notch. I laid my head against the trim of the door, tears cascading down my face as I recalled her beautiful blonde hair, the hazel eyes, and the freckles that once dusted her nose.

I sniffled as I wiped my eyes, continuing to walk through the rest of the cabin. Furniture was covered with white sheets and dust coated the shelves. I approached the mantle over the fireplace and rubbed a picture against my shirt. Through the dirty streaks on the glass, I could make out a picture from five years before everything had changed. Before my sister had vanished into thin air and left me all alone to tend to my parents.

My father had turned to alcohol, my mother threw herself into an earlier grave, and then I was left alone. I walked through the dining room and smiled when I saw the little frozen pond that laid about a dozen feet from the back door. Sophie and I had always tossed a penny in, making a wish. I sniffled as I thought back to the wish I had made before we’d gone home after the search had been called off.

I had wished for Sophie to come home safely. I wiped my eyes and pulled my windbreaker tighter around me. I walked back to the living room, throwing some wood into the fireplace. I searched around for some matches, but was having no luck. I began opening various drawers in the desk, freezing when I found a small journal wrapped with a thinning piece of twine. I picked it up, thumbing through the pages, and I gave a soft gasp.

The handwriting was familiar, yet shaky. The dates were confusing. It appeared my father had been keeping a journal and...he was coming here during the winter? I glanced back into the drawer and snatched up the matches. With shaky hands, I walked back to the fireplace and tucked the diary under my arm. I struck a match and tossed it onto the old logs.

As the fire began to grow, I sat down on the couch, quickly reading what I could from my father's journal. My heart clutched in my chest as I read one of the last entries.

"My daughter caught Jeanette and I today...she had brought a boyfriend out here, thinking there would be no one around. God the way she looked at me was awful, I felt like I was the scum of the earth. Now I must find a way to keep her quiet...if she tells her mother..."

I glanced at the date and I suddenly felt sick. The entry was from a few weeks before the family made its yearly trip here. Sophie had never told me she had a boyfriend, or that they'd snuck up here and she'd caught Dad in an act of infidelity. I flipped forward a few pages and my eyes widened, my breath hitching in my throat.

The only thing written the day after Sophie's disappearance was, "Forgive me, Sophie."

I felt a lump form in my throat and I fought the urge to vomit. I threw his journal across the room and it thudded against the wall and then the floor. I rose to my feet, beginning to pace around as I wandered deep into my thoughts. What could this mean? I thought to myself. Dad would never have hurt Sophie. He loved us. We were his girls!

I tried to keep taking deep breathes, but found it difficult the more I continued to think. I glanced out to the pond and froze. Closer to the tree line that led into the woods, I saw a figure. It was bundled in thick clothes and I stepped out onto the back porch, my eyes never leaving the figure. I saw blonde hair whipping through the air and suddenly, my heart was leaping. My irritational mind was beginning to run away.

"Sophie?!" I shouted to the figure and my jaw dropped as the figure seemed to start making its way towards me. I gasped and tears burned my eyes. "Sophie!" I hurried down the stairs and broke into a dead sprint, my lungs aching from the cold air. "Sophie! Sophie, I'm here!" The thunder of my feet was muffled by the snow as I continued to sprint, my vision blurred from the tears.

I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and my feet hit the pond. Suddenly, my feet were out from under me as I slipped and my head smacked the frozen pond with a soft crack. I stared straight ahead as the figure began to run, my head spinning like a top. I touched my head with numbing fingers, and when I brought them back before my eyes, they were streaked with blood.

I felt ice cold water seeping through my hair as I slowly slipped into unconsciousness. My eyes fluttered shut as the figure came fully into view.

"Viola? Viola!" the voice said and suddenly my senses were no longer with me.