With my frigid feet, I was standing on frozen grounds. Not a single crack was visible from five feet and four-and-a-half inches above—I was standing on solid ice.

I tried walking, but I couldn’t take a single step. I looked back down to find my frigid feet covered in ice, stopping me from moving on. 

I looked back up to gather my surroundings. Every leafless tree and every blade of grass was gingerly embraced by the cold ice. The raindrops were frozen in the air, the wind was frozen mid-gust.

Everything was frozen; time was standing still.

This wasn’t something I encounter on a daily basis; to be quite frank, I have never experienced this before in my life. But, there I was, frozen in time, soaking up the final moments of right-now before they would fade into the everlasting past.

As I was standing there, my mind drifted away, and I soon become unfazed by the biting cold stabbing at my feet. My eyes were drawn to the crystals dangling off the bare branches of the small trees lining the street. Each one was carefully crafted, and the sun leaves a faint reflection, bouncing off the same angle of each crystal.

I looked up to the sky, curious as to how the sun was out on such a rainy day. The sun was timidly peeking behind the pearlescent clouds. From the look of it, as soon as time unfroze—if time ever unfroze—the sun would burst through the cumulus wall, the final gust of wind would blow, and the last of the raindrops would fall.

My daze was broken as I heard the ice below my feet begin to crack. What once was solid ice was now sharded, unsteady. I begin to panic. How much time will I have left in this frozen world? When will I have to turn back and keep walking? 

I want to leave this frozen world different than it was when I entered it. I want to be better. I want to walk across the sharded ground and let the sharp, frigid ice pierce my skin, but I emerge unscathed. I want the headaches to go away and my fatigue to slip off my shoulders.

Cracking, cracking, cracking.

I glance back at the trees, the crystals begin to fall off the branches, and the sun is slowly beginning to creep behind the clouds. Instead of continuing to panic about the future, I embrace who I am, and who I will one day become.

The ice finally shatters. Time is moving once again. The sun bursts through the cumulus clouds, the final raindrops fall, and the last gust of wind sweeps through the streets.

And, as the ice pierces my feet while I walk away, I emerge unscathed.