Burying the Hatchet

My name is Allison Lynn Bryson, but today it's Beth. Beth is the opposite of Allison. Beth didn't run away from home with her older brother to live in a small shack hidden in the woods. Beth's life is filled with happiness, joy, luck, and everything her heart desires. Beth is never lonely or scared. Beth is everything Allison wishes to be.

"There she is. The girl with long, golden hair, sitting all alone in the snow." I stared past the frosted window glass of the old, wooden shack while inventing a story from the top of my head as I often did. "An oversized red cloak is draped around her narrow shoulders and it looks like she's been crying."

"Why is she crying?" Ethan's voice traveled from a couple feet behind me. His hazelnut-colored eyes narrowed, zeroing in on mine and my facial expression. He was probably trying to read me and come up with his own answer to the question.

"She's lonely and scared." I gave the obvious response. I turned back to the window. My vision traveled through the leafless patches of quaking aspens far in the distance that nearly blocked my view of the striking snow patches atop the frozen lake. "But there's someone out there." I faked a gasp to make the story more enthralling, and it worked.