The noise doesn't stop.
Scratching. Rubbing. Dull thuds.
Beneath us.
Into the hole.
I keep a safe distance, up high this time. The shovel is stuck in the snow.
I watched them struggle.
to dig so as not to end up buried.
I could almost say "poor animals".
Their twisted bodies pile up, trample each other, scratch, scream… then start all over again.
Instinct.
Survive .
They push back the snow
Again. Again.
That would hold.
"Even more water," I ordered.
The water freezes on their bodies. It freezes them. It provokes them.
But they work.
Always.
I listen to the whispers behind me.
I sense the tension in their eyes, and the hesitation.
– …it works, someone whispers.
Another breath of fresh air.
– Damn… it really works…
I hide my smile.
Then the motives.
– Continue, I said. Sec.
They no longer hesitate and don't even look at the leader before following my orders.
The buckets are passed from hand to hand. The water falls. Freezes. Cracks.
The animals become pillars.
Living.
The boss approaches, arms crossed. She stops next to me.
– …you saw it coming, you're still the same as ever… In your selfishness
I barely shrug.
– you flatter me far too much, I don't even come close to your level in terms of hypocrisy.
Pause.
– If you say so, you remain human.
She stares at the hole. For a long time.
– …we're holding on.
A breath of fresh air passes through the group.
It was as if someone had just given permission to breathe.
The shoulders drop.
Others sit in the snow.
Sold out.
The village is still there
We succeeded…
The animals were frozen.
They dug to survive. They pushed back the snow.
They saved the village.
Ironic.
A final gesture from their comrade
A man raises his arms.
– WE DID IT!
Another one follows.
Then two.
Then three.
A movement.
A start to the celebration.
A laugh.
Court.
They threw themselves into each other's arms with genuine smiles, long forgotten, jumping around, clinging to one another.
Breeze.
– …that's my father.
Silence.
Everything stops.
The kid.
Standing.
Eyes fixed on the hole.
– …that one…
His hand trembles. He points.
– …it's him.
No one is speaking.
The wind is passing.
Cold.
Heavy.
– (no joke, it's like he never took the time to grow up mentally)
I'm watching.
To me they are just shapes. Frozen. Twisted.
He should just forget about it years ago; parents never love their children, we're just a trophy to prove to the world that they love themselves, a result of their desire for validation.
The chef turned on her heel.
The others look away.
Victory fades.
Suddenly.
– …we can't leave them like this… someone murmurs.
Guilt?
– …it was us.
Silence.
I breathe.
Then, anyway
– If you release them now…
They turn their heads towards me.
– …you will die.
Direct.
No emotion.
– I don't think they will die that easily.
– they're just stuck.
– You break the ice… they come out.
The kid stares at me. His eyes are red.
– …but they will leave again
I watch them.
– Are you waiting for a miracle?
Silence.
– You call them comrade but are never ready to save them.
That's not going down well.
I see it.
But nobody disagrees.
Because they know.
– …the game is bad, but it's the only one that can put them back in their place
She raises her hand
– ONLY YOU CAN SAVE THEM.
The kid clenches his fists. But he backs away.
Slowly.
The crowd disperses.
Less noisy.
Heavier.
I'm looking into the distance.
Between two white lines.
Open.
A direct route.
Am I the only one who sees it that way?
An outing.
I take a step.
Then another one.
– Ki-Moon?
I'm stopping.
That little girl again.
She's here.
Hanging from my coat.
Again.
– …are you leaving?
I roll my eyes.
I look ahead.
– …you're leaving, right?
His voice wavered.
– The snow… it's gone…
– so… you can…
She can't finish.
Silence.
Then :
- Yes.
Simple.
Direct.
She squeezes harder.
– No, you can stay now
– they don't want to chase you away anymore
I look at her.
– That's not even it.
Her eyes are shining.
– You can't.
– Yes.
– Non !
She shakes her head.
– You're going to die!
- Maybe.
- …stay.
Silence.
– I too have something to save
I look at the village.
The people. The cabins.
I hope I've made a significant impact on their lives.
Miserable.
But a life.
A slight smile on her face.
I lean towards her a little.
– I didn't come to live here.
Pause.
– I got lost along the way.
She loosens my coat a little.
Just a little.
– …I'm leaving with you…
I straighten up.
- If you want .
I take a step.
She's not holding me back this time.
More
– …are you coming back?
I'm stopping.
With his back to her.
Long silence.
The wind is passing.
Cold.
Then :
– You are a survivor.
I resume my walk.
Without turning around.
I'm not expecting any goodbyes.
Even her.
The sound of my footsteps in the snow.
Nothing else.
The crossing is getting closer.
Each step is lighter.
Plus simple.
Leaving unexpectedly is a way to stay in their heads
I don't look back anymore.
In front.
Only in front.
The game awaits me.
And this time –