Me, Melany. The Monster

Picture a snowy winter’s day. You’re standing in a completely deserted field covered in what looks like the remains of an avalanche. The truth is, it’s been this way ever since the first day of November, it’s just now, people are starting to notice it. It’s getting dark, and incredibly cold; you’re kept somewhat warm by the picturesque view. You can peer at it, behind a veil of falling...snow. There’s a quintet of black trees, crouching in a far corner, and the lake that you came here to drown yourself in is frozen over to spite you. You’re so captivated by the flawless white that you don’t realise the burn when it touches your skin. You don’t notice your skin splitting and bleeding as the wind attempts to ice you over. You don’t remember that this could kill you. But believe it or not, you’re stuck here. There’s no way you’re escaping this field, all you have to do is bide your time and sit pretty until summer comes to visit again. You may sleep, and when you wake, daffodils will be wound around your ankles, and daisies will be tickling your face. Springtime, but this is the same place as it was last winter. See how it’s changed?

That’s how I see my mind.