Emma Ulven – författare

I am so cold. Rustling off in the distance possess my tired eyes to open. A man dressed in winter gear stands atop the hill. Axel? No, his brown hair has hints of grey. His chocolaty eyes bring back memories of the cabin. It couldn''t be. I push my body from the pillowy cushion of snow and sit on my knees. The wind picks up his scent, carrying the familiar smell of cedar smoldering in a fireplace like he had just been in his office. "Dad," the word escapes my lips so quiet and weak that I''m afraid he didn''t hear me. Tears rush down my cold cheeks when I see him point in my direction. Another masculine silhouette walks up and stands next to him. Fresh water and mossy pine drift my way. Axel. He looks just the way I had last seen him. Disheveled white button-down tee, dark blue jeans, messy raven''s black hair. A petite feminine silhouette walks up to the other side of my father. I can feel her power. I want so much to be angry at her, but all I feel is relief. Axel found them. He found my parents. Axel comes sprinting my way as sob after sob escapes me. He stops a few feet from me. His hand raised to the air, almost like it''s pressed to a window. "No," I whine. The barrier is real. Axel pounds on the barrier, "We''re gonna get you out of here, Snowflake." my bare and cold body feels warm again. I thought I would never hear his voice again.