21st December 1981, Oymyakon, Russia
Frigid, ravenous, buried with snow, and baffled were the only words I could feel. The heavy cold wind blowing against my frosty cheeks, thumping my feet against the roadway to make my path, aggressively wrapping my fury coat over my chest as the wind blew more furiously. In search of visible light I kept on walking on the unknown cloudy street, I lost failed miserably on protecting my friends, family, I was lost in the misery of, faith, filled with heart wrecking devastation, unable to listen to myself, I kept on walking to no where, tears flowing down my cheeks turned into ice droplets, I had to find shelter but I still bowed down looking at my feet and walked.
Suddenly I heard a child scream at the top of this voice, I felt the euphoria rise with fear up holding it, I looked and around in a hike of hope; I believed myself that I had heard a voice draw into my ears, it felt as if someone needed my presence. Moment passed down and I didn’t scroll my eyes away from looking at the cloudy view. Until, I felt as if I stepped on water, I could feel chilled water wet my socks, I started shivering like I have never before; As I tried to look at what and where I stepped, I find myself staring at my reflection, saw myself standing and shivering, it gave me a bit of euphoria watching my face despite of the pale skin, I slowly possessed fearfully that I was standing on a frozen thin layer of ice over a river. I took a step back, it was hard to process this information that death might be near, unfortunately, I had a cracking voice, my Goosebumps got alerted, my heart aced as it pumped, my breath fluctuated, I could feel all my veins with blood flowing through them, I couldn’t blink anymore, was I going to recreate the ice-age scene in reality?
I had no time to waste, I tried to take another step and again the cracking noise whispered into my ears as if I’ve sinned, I had no clue of how far was I am from the streets, I began to feel the slipperiness of the ice; there is no time to waste so I decided to run for the road. I closed my eyes and ran, I heard the ice cracking with each, step I took, the voice increased with it, I didn’t know when to stop. The voices stopped following me, and I stopped to look where I was and I catch myself staring at a hut, made out of wood buried under snow, I quickly spotted newspapers shuffled at the bottom of the door, my incents predicted people inside; I was confused, drained, low-self-esteem, within myself I could hear all the voices, especially of that child screaming with the cracking of the ice along,
I found myself wanting to escape from the dilemma, quickly went up to the door, and pushed myself to against the door to open it. My eyes sparked once more, eyes flow down my chilled frozen cheeks, entering a perfectly warm, furnished house has never given this type of nostalgia like it has today, I couldn’t resist the emotion and found myself laying down the fury carpet. I tried to settle into the hut and realized my boots had blood filled inside them, to my surprise there wasn’t a single cut on my feet, it might be old. I cleaned myself and took shower in warm water after weeks! Soon I wore someone of the clothes inside the closet without knowing who lives here. After relaxing, I took a quick stroll to know about the house, apparently, this house was owned by two mid-aged couples with one boy child living. I noticed there was cooked food left on the table with half-eaten meat and glass broken down on the wooden floor, who could have left this place with cooked food and heater in this bad storm.
2nd February 1982, Oymyakon, Russia
The hash winter started fading away leaving a glimpse of sunrays to fall, the air started clearing out. It was time to take a peek of the outer world and if so perhaps I could go for grocery shopping. As I took a step into the outer haunted place fearless knowing I have nothing to worry about at this moment. The splendid view with sun drops melting the river and cold wind blowing, and people strolling around.
Everything felt back to normal, but there is still one part of me that felt guilty about the screaming of the boy, blood found inside my shoes, and the uneaten food…