The Disappearing Act

An original story

Alisha Raja, S

The towering figure loomed above me as the cold, frosty air blew against my chapped lips. I walk around it, my feet crunching in the snow. It’s not my best work, I’ll admit, but there’s something special about this one.

“Rarf! Arf! Arf!” I turn around and see my dog running towards me, barking.

“Hey! Hey! Hey, whatcha’ doin’?” I say, kneeling and scratching his back. My dog’s name is Tinsel since I had gotten him last year for the holidays. I scoop him up, stand, and start walking towards the house. Stomping the snow off of my boots, I peel off my jacket.

“Oh, my, Millie, you’re soaked! That must mean that your snowman-building is going along well,” my mom says from the staircase, emerging into the mudroom with slippers on her feet and hot chocolate in her hands.

“Mom! It looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed!” I exclaim, laughing lightly as I follow her up the stairs, Tinsel right behind me.

As soon as I get to the kitchen there’s a warm cup of hot chocolate waiting for me.

I plop down onto the couch and sip my hot chocolate, grabbing a pen and paper as I begin to brainstorm ideas for my snowman.

“There, finished,” I whisper to myself.

As I run outside, my cheeks turn a rosy pink. Suddenly, I stop dead in my tracks. The scarf in my hand slips out and little pieces of snow fly from the ground.

I turn my head and stare into a pit of nothingness. Where is my snowman? I think frantically. My adrenaline kicks in and I scramble over the subzero snow to my creation, my monument, my very own Christ the Redeemer.

My knees drop to the ground and I stare down in awe. I know that I cannot let a little bit of flat land ruin my day. So, I pick a spot and start rebuilding.

It has seemed as though hours have passed, but I am finally finished. The sun sparkles on the white snow and I feel satisfied with my project.

The next morning I walk outside to a level ground of snow.

“Again? Seriously? Why? You’re killin’ me!” I say, motioning to the sky as I walk in circles. Then a light flickers on in my brain. A grin starts to form on my face as I plot a brand new plan.

I scramble to build a snowman and hide a video camera in a nearby tree. I attempt at an evil laugh (which failed terribly) and I’m pretty sure I woke up my neighbors.

Alright, alright, this is going to work, I just know it is I think. As I grab the doorknob  I turn and look back. Thoughts arise in my brain I’m going to catch them!

Staring out a window is like watching paint dry. There’s nothing exciting. Here and there there’s a snowball or two, maybe a bird. But no magicians making snowmen disappear.

“Dear, what’re you doing over here?” My mother says as she walks to the bay window and sits next to me.

“Oh, just watching for snowman thieves. Though I don’t think anyone would be able to carry a bunch of snowmen—” I start but I am interrupted when my mother says,

   “Woah! Are you looking at this, Millie?” My mouth drops when I see a puff of smoke around my snowman, and then it disappears. I catch a glimpse of a black hat and the back of a suit, but I lose it in the smoke.

“Hey, mom! I’m going to run outside real quick. Be right back!” As I run outside, I see the new figure, the one in black and red silk, with a top hat and a black cane. A gust of wind blows into the air and as I try to look through the thick snow, I cannot find what I had seen before. All I see is a white rabbit. I could’ve sworn that he winked at me.