It was hard to understand what changed to me about the world during those months. It might not have seemed significant to anyone else, but it mattered to me. It was as if the world I knew had opened up and revealed something I had never even contemplated. The evidence was irrefutable in my mind, but the paradox occurred when I remembered that was I was the only one who experienced those moments, and was the sole witness who could back it up. I knew it was happening, but no one else did. There were many things I didn’t yet understand, which undermined my desire to confess the secrets we shared. Besides, we had an unspoken agreement, these were our times, they were our shared moments that existed for no one but us. It was also a burden in some other unexpected ways. I had a hard time seeing others without seeing her, and I mostly found them lacking. I knew I couldn’t tell anybody but there were numerous mysteries I couldn’t begin to solve. I didn’t know precisely where came from, though I had an idea. The other thing that puzzled me was why she seemed to need to look after me. I thought about some of the seemingly odd things that had happened in the years before our first encounter. I thought about several close calls I experienced, where things could have turned out quite badly. There was one instance in particular where I felt something closing in, encircling my body. My throat would close up and I’d feel a dull pain going up my right leg. The dread and darkness came for me in an instant and it felt like there was no escape. Suddenly, without explanation the threat would lift almost miraculously and I’d feel serenity and peacefulness rush in to take its place. I wondered where this sudden peacefulness had came from before we met. Now that I had seen her, I had an idea but wasn’t completely sure if it was her work or not. I hadn’t actually seen her during those moments, but thinking back on it, I thought something or someone had been watching over me, even though I hadn’t realized it. I just couldn’t quite understand why it was happening to me.

I reluctantly returned to school a few weeks later, still feeling a bit alone inside there. However, I still had my secrets to pull me through. I walked through the streets there in the mornings. The distance was the same, but things had changed. January was a little different than the previous months, as the frozen edges had come and taken over. In the intervening weeks between the winter had taken its traditional hold on the world. Endless layers of ice covered the ground, freezing everything below its absolute grip. Unable to let anything through, even the sun couldn’t penetrate the deep freeze. The air was cold, and I could feel it inside me as each breath would come. After several weeks of this, I had become accustomed to its cold and my defenses were strong, so it didn’t bother me. The layers of snow would usually arrive during the night, covering the ice with a fresh coating of crystalline white. Gradually adding layers, it created a thick surface that was simultaneously slick and sturdy. I had to be careful in the mornings, since the newly fallen ice was slippery and it would be easy to fall. Walking up the steep hills towards school wasn’t the easiest task, but one that had to be endured. Using my well-worn paths, I was usually able to get there quicker than the others. Frequently, I’d find a locked door and for a few minutes, I would stand there alone most of the time. As I looked across the fields and sidewalks, I could see thousands of small crystals in the snow each morning, reflecting the sunlight, glittering like the ocean I had dived in during the summer. In the silent moments, I watched the winter light as it absorbed to the ground coming straight through the clouds, diving into the snow-covered ground, splashing it with a distinct energy. It was a beautiful solitary moment but this calm wouldn’t last. Once the others would arrive, they’d begin converge on the door, tracking through the snow leaving their footprints behind, disrupting the pristine silence. They’d come closer to me as the time came near, battling it out to become the first through the door. I’d usually hold back, and stand a little bit to the side, letting them go in before me. I felt distant from them the moment they entered my presence and I was in no hurry to join them.  I watched them walk into the building, and I felt something come over me. I thought of her as I was standing there and suddenly, I decided that day would be different.

I decided not to go inside the building that day which wasn’t something I’d normally do. I knew what was expected of me, but I couldn’t gather the strength to endure it that morning. I felt things were draining away and there were more important things for me to do. As I turned in the other direction and walked away, I wondered if anyone would miss me. I approached the steel gates and as I walked back through them, I felt the burdens lift. I wouldn’t have to pretend, hide myself, or put on a mask. I wouldn’t have to live in fear of being found out. The decision came quickly to me and I knew it was the right one. It had only been a few weeks, but I was again feeling a little overwhelmed. I needed a break from these thoughts. My steps began to quicken, I was happy, the day was mine again. I would worry about the books and their questions tomorrow. The sun was brightening, and things began to feel a little bit warmer. As I walked further away, the things I held in my backpack began to feel important again. My stories and drawings wouldn’t be carelessly disturbed; my privacy wouldn’t be invaded by those who wouldn’t understand. I didn’t have to worry about any of those pressures. I walked through the streets, taking my usual short-cuts home and passing some of the familiar places. I walked past the hidden entrance to the mountain where I spent a lot of time the previous fall. I saw that during the previous few weeks, it had been further obscured by a large bank of snow that had been pushed in front of it during the intervening storms, making it nearly impossible to get into from that direction. I wasn’t planning on going there anyway, it was much too cold. The daylight was beginning to intensify and as I looked on the ground, I could see some of the top layers of snow begin to melt and turn into water pools. I walked further down the hill and past the other entrance that was better marked but still not completely welcoming. As I walked down the hill, there were more houses and they got smaller and closer to each other. Their roofs were covered by thick layers of ice, submerging them under winter’s grip. Tracing my footsteps carefully, I walked in the paths trying to stay in the clear sections. I carefully stepped over the icy spots and tried to avoid slipping and falling. I was making some fast progress and soon I knew I’d be home. It was a very quiet walk since most of the morning hustle and bustle had subsided, leaving the world in a strangely restful condition. The silence was a great relief to me, things had become overwhelming quickly and this was exactly what I wanted.

Suddenly, I heard someone call my name.