Blue cascades around the surroundings like the color of the sea that I feared as a child. The innocent, faint blue leaves traces—almost like messages—against the deeper, ominous blue night sky. Clouds have cleared, fearing what an interruption of this blue mosaic in front of me would cause.

Yet this blue, one that could represent so much from childhood fears to a baby boy, falls flat against my eyes. No wonder, no intrigue, no questions jade my eyes as I survey the land encircling me that hardly deviates in color or shape; the ground is blank, and my eyes reflect the same.

Instead, my mind bypasses the opportunities of what the sky can hold. The monotonous colors, ones I had left behind years ago, simply fade together with the wash of the wintry wind.

White flurries, icy and unforgiving, clashes against the front line of the continuous color. The white battles for space; inching slowly, it devours the water underneath it. Waves of blue become snow-capped ice.

With a mind of their own, my feet propel me forwards while giving in to the adventure-craving soul inside. The night sky, inky and darkened, outlines my body as my unamused mind takes excitement with the stark change in color. A once blue lake transforms into an icy playground just in time for my journey.

Timidly, I place my foot at the beginning of the frozen lake. The thin layer of snow clears out from under my feet, and the ice becomes exposed in my path.

As I traverse, steps bringing doubt that cloud my mind crack deep within the ice layer slowly tunnel to the surface. Ever so slightly, I am breaking the very ground beneath me—the layer keeping me above the frigid, heavy winter waters.

Slight reverberations of my steps snake their way through the ice, and the cracks double in size. Slowly, they have torn apart the path I left, and I obliviously continue on.

I move my eyes up from the ground I intently focused on; greeted by complete ice on every inch I could see, I realize I am at least halfway across this unknown land. Feeling the current beneath my frozen feet, my senses awaken to the sudden snap below me.

My foot, the one that led me and egged me on and encouraged my journey into the unknown, falls through the ice that I so desperately relied on.

Glacial waters bite through my shoe. They bite straight into my bone with malevolent intent. They bite away at me, and my mind is sent into a frenzy.  

Panic rises from deep up inside and bubbles in my throat. Shrieks accompany every exhale as I struggle to find my balance. Cracks spring from the hole my foot had made. My eyes perilously seek a haven from this unreliable ice, but I am met with the suffocating white.

More snaps and cracks litter the hushed winter air, echoing my every step. Panic weighs down my body. I keep my eyes up in a constant search as my feet now travel with the motivation of safety. Adventure has led to this isolated trap.

Now, once believing I could make this pilgrimage alone, I hope that someone is out there.

I hope someone is hiding just past my eyesight.

Holding myself up alone over the ice is a failed effort, and I hope that I have someone to save me from my inevitable fate of the water beneath.