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The Last Message in The Snow: Between

A mysterious message carved in snow across the city, stating 'I'M STILL HERE,' sparks panic and intrigue as Lena recognizes her missing brother's handwriting. After discovering him trapped in a surreal state beneath the city, he reveals he cannot return but urges her to ensure he is not forgotten. Each winter, Lena continues to see the faint letters beneath the snow, holding onto hope and memory.

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7 views1 page

The Last Message in The Snow: Between

A mysterious message carved in snow across the city, stating 'I'M STILL HERE,' sparks panic and intrigue as Lena recognizes her missing brother's handwriting. After discovering him trapped in a surreal state beneath the city, he reveals he cannot return but urges her to ensure he is not forgotten. Each winter, Lena continues to see the faint letters beneath the snow, holding onto hope and memory.

Uploaded by

lukasbpeters13
Copyright
© All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd

The Last Message in the Snow

The message appeared overnight, carved into fresh snow across the entire
city:

I’M STILL HERE.

No one knew who made it. Satellites showed nothing. Roads were blocked by
letters taller than buildings. Social media exploded. Governments panicked.

Lena stood on her apartment roof, staring at the words with shaking hands.
She recognized the handwriting—not the style, but the intent. It was how her
brother used to write messages when he was afraid.

He had vanished three years ago during a blizzard that erased half the power
grid. Officially, he was presumed dead. Lena never believed it.

That night, the temperature dropped impossibly low. Snow began rewriting
itself, letters shifting like something turning over in its sleep. Lena followed
them to the old subway tunnels, long abandoned.

Deep underground, warmth pulsed.

Her brother sat beside a glowing fracture in the world, frost crystallized in his
hair. He explained he’d fallen between moments, trapped in the pause
storms leave behind. The city’s snow was the only surface thin enough to
write through.

“I can’t come back,” he said. “But you can make sure I’m not erased.”

By morning, the message was gone. The city called it a hoax, a mass
hallucination.

But every winter, when the first snow falls, Lena looks outside. And beneath
the white, faint letters press upward, waiting for someone who remembers
how to read them.

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