The preteen looked out of the bay window at the snow-covered mountains. "I don't want to be here, Mom! Why can't we just go back to Georgia? My friends are there, and it's warm."
Mom sighed. "We've talked about this, Donna. Your father was assigned here. He's a soldier, he goes where he's sent. Be grateful it's somewhere that we're allowed to be with him - we might not always be so lucky."
Donna frowned, and crossed her arms across her chest. "I know he has to be here, but why do I? I could stay with Jenna and her parents. Or you could come back with me..."
"Donna Rachel Gerald! That's not even an option. We're a family... I'm disappointed in your negative attitude. Please go to your room, and think about the way you've been acting."
Donna turned without a word. Head held high, she marched away. When she entered her room, she locked the door, and turned on her computer.
A few minutes later, she heard the front door open. "I wonder if she'll tell Dad what I said?" Donna went to the door, and put her ear against it.
"But at least she wore her snowsuit and jacket home?" Dad asked.
Mom coughed, then paused. "No, she still claims that wearing winter clothes make her look stupid. I thought when the real cold came, she'd relent. All the other kids wear it, after all..."
"Honey, I've said this before, and I still think it's what's going on. She's doing it to rebel. Donna thinks if we're worried about her safety, we'll figure out a way to send her back to Georgia."
"Bingo, Dad," whispered Donna, as she went back to her computer. She opened a chat window, and began to type rapidly.
"Jenna, I just had a great idea how to get home. All I have to do is pretend to run away without my winter clothes."
"That's crazy, Donna! You told me this morning it was supposed to be colder than ever tonight."
"There's a ski slope close by, and they have heated buildings where people can warm up. I'll go there, then run back here in like the middle of the night. Act like I took a walk, got lost, and found my way back."
"I don't like it, Donna. Too much could go wrong. It's not like waiting for the bus in shorts, or refusing to wear a sweater to church. This is dangerous."
With a satisfied smile she typed "big risk, big reward."
Donna closed the chat, careful to delete the history. Turning off the computer, she waited until she heard her parents in the kitchen. Then she slipped out of the house.
"Wow, it really is cold! Oh well, the ski slope isn't far. I'll take the cross-country ski trail through the woods, it's faster."
Shivering, the girl walked faster to warm herself. The wind began to blow, whipping snow in every direction.
"I can't see anything. I'll have to slow down, and feel the trail with my feet. Oh, I wish I'd worn boots instead of tennis shoes."
After losing the trail several times, she finally made it to the slope.
"Finally I can get warm," she said through chattering teeth.
She tried the door of the closest building. "Why would they lock it? There's nothing in these places. Maybe it was just a mistake, I'll try another one..."
"What am I going to do?!?! They're all locked! And I'm way too cold to make it back."
Frightened for the first time, Donna trudged up to the main building, where people went in to buy and eat snacks. "Maybe someone's still there, a cleaning person or something," she thought desperately.
Faced with dark windows and a locked door, she began tugging and jerking on the handle with all of her might. Nothing happened.
Her hands had long since stopped burning from the cold, so she kept at it until she was exhausted. Then she leaned against the smooth, cold glass.
Minutes later, she saw headlights. Hope surged through her. "Someone's coming. Maybe they'll let me in."
It turned out to be a police car.
"Officers?" she asked, wondering if they were a figment of her imagination. She knew she was in real danger of passing out soon.
A short man stepped forward, badge in hand. "We got a report of a tripped security alarm. You look like you could use some warm clothes, young lady."
Donna staggered towards the car, before she had even been invited. Unable to open the door, she had to wait to be admitted. Once in, relief flooded through her - along with pain, as her limbs began to thaw.
Soon she was sitting in her own living room, her parents looking at her in shock.
Dad walked over to her, and refilled her mug of cocoa. "Are you saying you went out for a walk in a snowstorm? And in a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes?"
"There wasn't a storm when I left," she replied, trying to sound reasonable.
Mom paced back and forth. "Well you're going to have to be treated for frostbite."
"I know. And I promise from now on, I'll wear my winter clothes. I'm sorry."
To her surprise, she realized that she meant it.
Cover image made in Canva Pro using their gallery