Who Are you Looking For? PV Finished

⋅ Backdated to 12'22'24 ⋅

Snow lazily drifted through the air, falling gracefully against the ground. Brushing thick swaths of evergreen in a light dusting of elegant white. Muting the air and casting everything in an unearthly chill. The winters of Mikael's home were a brutal accord. When had he last seen the lukewarm summer light warm his skin? Mikael trudged through the snow, his breath billowing out in white clouds. In hand, freshly cut wooden logs were piled against his chest. Each step was loud as he crunched through the old snow that had refused to melt. The boy had been working on gathering wood for most of the morning. He had started when the sky was still a warm pink, but now it had relapsed back into the familiar winter grey. Dark woods hung onto either side of his path.

Reducio

As Mikael continued onward, he could not help but enjoy the quiet solitude the landscape offered him. With school being off, it was a sweet reprieve from all the tension the incident had caused. Mikael could feel the sharpness of the cold biting at his cheeks. The tips of his fingers numb, despite his thick gloves, as he gripped onto his precious cargo. Dropping it would result in a much more tedious drying process. One he did not wish to contend with. The black silhouettes of the tall trees towered over him.

Looking toward the ground, he could not help but remember when the winters here had not seemed so harsh. If he looked hard enough, he wondered if he would also be able to remember how it had felt to be so carefree. When he hadn't spent his winters trying to keep them from freezing. It seemed crazy but he could almost imagine it. The way the sky looked as he laid down in the snow.

As the boy glanced into the treeline, he could not help but feel a difference. A shift in the air. A lingering sense of something lost, waiting, something unspoken. Blinking the boy shook his head slightly, and after what felt like an eternity, the boy would continue forward. As he rounded the corner, the dense wood began to give way. The right side opened up into the grassy field next to his home. From the hill, he had a good vantage point. Able to see his path down the small hill and to the porch where he had been stacking the wood.

Reducio

His home stood like a small island amongst the vast expanse of the white that threatened to overtake it. Modest and simple. Far more simple than he was willing to admit. Not when comparing it to the extravagant homes of his peers. It had been hard to ignore the look on Valentin's face when the other had come to pick him up. Or the first time he had stepped into Felix's house. Feeling far too out of place. Moments like these clung to his mind like the ink that stained the paper black.

Mikael paused gazing out onto the cliffside. The fence that stood there was weathered from years of brutal exposure to the climate. His eyes caught on the yellow police tape tied to either side of where the fence was broken. Flapping uselessly in the wind. A sudden snap brought him into action, head whirling around to stare at the tree line. The silence of the winter landscape seemed to deepen. As if everything was holding its breath. Waiting. His breath came out in ragged puffs as adrenaline flooded his heart with dread. He was uncertain how long he stood there. How many seconds? How many minutes did he spend staring into the woods? Trying to see through the shadows that may have harbored something. Something he was less than ready to face.

Swallowing thickly, the boy would slowly turn back toward his path and head at a quicker pace toward the porch. Stepping onto it let out a loud groan. The well-worn wood had seen much better days. Ones that he was fairly certain he did not exist for. His boots would stomp forward, carelessly placing the wood onto the pile he had created. Mikael would stand up from his kneeled position and look out towards the clearing. Brows furrowed slightly in contemplation. Maybe he had been imagining things? It would not be the first time his imagination had run away from him. With a small huff, resulting in another billow of white, the boy would turn and go inside. In the distance, the quiet was broken by the faint sound of something else. Something out of place. A soft, distant thud of a footfall in the snow.
"Found you."

[Interlude]

Mikael was not too sure when he had been brought into consciousness. His mind felt heavy as if submerged in a deep fog. Swirling clarity that he desperately tried to grasp onto. It was as if he had just woken from a dream. One too real, too vivid to let him continue sleeping soundly, and yet his mind was blank from any remnants. Yet, as his heart pounded in his ears and the silence pressed around him. He could not shake that something was pressing him forward.

The boy's eyes blinked open doing their best to remove the sleep that clung on for dear life. Glancing around his room, he slowly sat up in his bed. Nothing seemed out of place, weak light streamed in through his bedroom window. Casting out the shadows of his room to reveal nothing. A frown grew on his face as the boy sat up more to look out the window. A fog crept in on the corners of the glass, and he knew if he had placed his hand close enough he would feel the cold outside air leak through. The snow had clearly fallen throughout the night, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of fresh snow.

Mikael's eyes widened slowly as he noticed fresh footprints in the snow. Brows furrowed as his breath caught in his throat. Was it his Father? His Father never really left the house, especially not in the early morning. Somewhat concerned but mostly confused, the boy would make his way down the stairs, the cold floors stung the bottoms of his feet through his socks. Pausing at the base of the stairs, he listened for any sound of his Father. When met with silence, he inwardly concluded he must be the one outside. Trudging down the hall, the boy would walk toward the door. Pausing to grab his boots, still covered in old snow, before pulling them over the cuffs of his pajama pants. Mikael turned to grab his jacket from the coat rack, shrugging the thick material over his arms.

The boy opened the door, exiting onto the front porch. The old faded painted white wood looked back at him in quiet resolution. The snow was bright against his freshly awake eyes, and the boy turned away to look down at the planks. Walking forward, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. His hand touching the cool metal of his knife as he looked over the railing at the footprints in the snow. They weren't his, having recently snowed last night, it was not difficult to decipher. Licking his chapped lips, Mikael walked along the porch following the steps as they moved around the corner of the porch. The treeline off to the right of the house loomed as tall and oppressive as it always did. Walking closer did nothing to take away its domineering presence.

"Father?" he called out in a confused tone his brows furrowed slightly in confusion. A pillow of white air slipped from his mouth as he spoke. Generally, he'd let his Father do whatever he wanted without a care. It was a seemingly defining point in their relationship, but he would be lying if he didn't say that what the man had done for him hadn't caused him pause. If he hadn't found him that morning, Mikael would have been done for. It was a thought he tried not to think much on, and the boy would press onward to round the corner of the porch. Looking out across the side of the house he could not note anything out of place. Something that brought a sense of confusion to the forefront of his mind. Gaze drifting down toward the steps, he could see that they seemed to continue around the other side of the house.

Following the steps once more, Mikael looked up to see he was back at the front of the house. A sense of wrongness pulled at his gut as he looked around toward the open meadow with confusion. The trees that lined the edge of the meadow swayed gently in the wind. Mikael's heart beat in his ears as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The house, the shed, the overgrown garden, everything looked the same, yet something felt...off. His breath hitched as tension pulled his muscles taught. "Fath-" he barely got out before the sound of the door opening up behind him caused him to jump back with a surprised cry.

Mikael blinked wildly as he stared at his Father's confused face, his tired eyes bore into him with concern. A look that made him feel rather hollow. His heartbeat fluttered against his rib cage as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Were you just out here?" he asked as he looked down at his Father's bare feet. Already confirming in his head, the "No." hardly phased him. Mikael brushed past his Father, making his way back into the house. "There's a tree in the corner, if you want to look at it." his father would say after him as he retreated. Though, Mikael would ignore his Father's halfhearted attempts at a semblance of conversation. He needed coffee. Mikael shrugged off his jacket, throwing it on a passing chair as he walked toward the kitchen. Grabbing onto the coffee pot like it was his lifeline.

Finished Thread