• Chapter One

    Beryl knew her only hope was to go for help. She had been stranded for nearly three days in the bleak countryside, doing what she could to survive. After losing control on the black ice coating the road during the bitter snowstorm and sliding into a deep ditch, she supposed her car was completely covered in snow and, even if anyone were to travel this back road at any time, they would not be able to see the car at all. All Beryl could do was crack the driver's door open to keep from suffocating, the snow nearly reaching from the tires to the roof, faint rays of light peeking occasionally through the thinner layers of white frost. She had tried calling for help but, of course, her cell phone was damaged in the car accident, hitting the windshield and cracking the glass as well as destroying itself as Beryl lost control of the vehicle. Living off granola bars and melted snow, there was now no more food and Beryl could feel the hunger rumble in her belly, her body demanding sustenance. The wounds from the car accident, the slashes on her face and arms from sharp glass and twisted metal, had scabbed with dried blood. Beryl could feel the severe bruising all over her body and wondered how badly she had really hurt herself.

    Why had she not seen the ice? Why did she decide to drive the many hours away from her college to a family member's house in a snowstorm? She should have just called and said she couldn't make the birthday party, her little cousin having to celebrate without her at his party. That was what he was doing at the moment, Beryl bet, only, instead of being safe and warm in her college dormitory, she was out in the middle of the countryside, freezing and left with two options: stay and pray for someone to drive by in the snowstorm to rescue her or start walking.

    Trying and failing one last time to start her car, Beryl stopped when she smelled the gasoline and what little exhaust there was seep into her car, making her dizzy. Not about to kill herself by carbon monoxide poisoning, Beryl grabbed what little supplies she had left, bundled herself up as best she could, and squeezed out the narrow space her car door allowed. Climbing to the top of the thick layer of snow, Beryl was amazed to see no sign of her car at all, only knowing it was hidden beneath the white fluff because she had just climbed out of it. There was no chance of anyone finding her if she stayed there and, telling herself aloud that she was doing the right thing to survive, Beryl wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and headed into the snowstorm.

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    It had been so long since she had set out on her journey that Beryl wondered how much time had really passed from escaping from her car. She was blind, the snow blowing large walls of snow crystals into the air, cutting off any visibility she might have. She knew she was lost and knew she had to keep on the road in order for anyone to see her. By the way the sun was positioned in the sky, through what little sunlight she could see through the billowing drifts of snow and cloudy sky, she had little time before nightfall. Stopping and feeling herself shake from the bitter cold, Beryl could have cried at the decision she had to make right there, right now. She had not seen a single house nor a single car since setting out and she had walked all day; she could either continue on through the night, praying for a rescue, or head back to the car and wait it out.

    Bracing herself for regret and despair, Beryl continued on, wondering if freezing to death was as bad as she initially thought.

    Collapsing on the cold sheet of snow, Beryl shook with cold and sobs. How could she die like this? She could imagine the newspapers: “College student has accident, freezes to death in search of help.” How awful. She wondered if anyone had sent search crews out for her. It had been three days, after all, since she should have arrived home and her parents had always been the sort to worry if she was a few hours late for something, even if she called before and warned them she would be arriving later. Why had no one found her yet?

    Curling up into a ball, Beryl felt the wind and snow pound on her, the snowstorm never letting up in it's vicious attack. She hoped someone would find her, anyone! Feeling her tears freeze on her cheeks, Beryl took a shuddering breath and prepared herself to close her eyes, probably never to open them again. She was too exhausted, too cold, too wounded from her car accident, to continue on. There was a time and place for everyone to leave the world; she just never though it was going to be so young in the middle of winter.

    Suddenly, just as Beryl was drifting into an unconsciousness, the snow suddenly ceased. The bitter wind stopped it's incessant howling, but the chill of ice grew stronger and stronger every moment she lay there in the snow. To her amazement, there were fingers on her check, brushing the hair back from her face, a soft touch of concern. Struggling to open her eyes, Beryl could feel the thick coating of frost grow on her eyelashes as they brushed the fingers. Trying to make out the figure, Beryl could only see a pale face with blue eyes looking back, a blurry image Beryl could not focus, no matter how hard she tried.

    Feeling arms creep under her, colder than the snow itself, Beryl felt herself lifted from the ground and held close to a lithe body. Unable to fight through the dizzying descent into darkness, Beryl managed to croak out one question.

    “Who are you?” she whispered, fighting to stay awake long enough to hear the answer. A voice whispered the answer, a cold wind hitting her face as the face of the person holding her grew closer.

    “I am Jack Frost and I'm going to save you.”