White

White.  All around me all I can see is white.  White in the air; white in the sky; white on the ground; I fucking hate white.

White; like the color of the sheets my Mom bought me.  She said I was a big girl now so I could sleep on the crisp clean white sheets.  Until one night I had an accident.  I peed in the bed and stained my white sheets yellow.  Mom never gave me white sheets again.

God, its cold out here.  Why did I leave the warmth of my house?  Oh yeah, because of him.  If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be out here in this God-forsaken frozen white tundra.

White; like the color of my wedding dress.  That day was so different from today.  It was warm, and we were in love.  My white dress shimmered as we danced on the floor.  Now I shiver as I try to find my way out.

If I’m honest I can’t remember how this fight started.  Too much alcohol, then a wayward look or an ill timed remark sparked emotions bottled inside, and the next thing I knew we were screaming.  He threw a pillow at my face.  I threw my wedding rings.  I grabbed a coat and slammed the door.  All I wanted was to get away.

And now here I am freezing in this whirlwind of white snow.  A girl from Alabama has no business running away in a snowstorm.  A wife has no business running away from her husband.

Oh God, I’m so very cold.  God please get me out of this blizzard. I’m so turned around I don’t know which way is up or which way is down.  God if you let me live, I promise never to yell at him again.  I can be a good wife, I swear.  I’ll learn to cook, I’ll do all his laundry, I’ll make him babies and I’ll be happy.  God, oh please don’t let me die.

White; like the color of the car I just ran into.  The pain in my foot is masked by the joy in my heart.  Could this be it?  Could this be the moment I have been searching for, the moment I am saved?  The car is cold, but if I could just get in maybe I can survive this hell.

I can’t feel my hands anyway, so the pain from breaking the window went unnoticed.  Glass mixes with snowflakes as I tumble into the car.  It’s not as easy as nascar makes it seem.  Huddling inside gives a break from the wind, but is it enough?

I stumble into the back of the car with less grace than a drunken couple.  There’s a blanket, white as snow in the backseat.  This must be my angel from God, my saving grace, another white item just waiting for me to mess it up.  I hid under the blanket as I blend into the snow.

Dear God, please let me live.  I promise never to hate the color white again.

this internal monologue attempt to write post was inspired by The Red Dress Club's prompt; being trapped in a blizzard.  Critique is always welcome.  Thanks for reading!