❄️ The Girl in the Snow Dress ❄️

 

❄️ The Girl in the Snow Dress ❄️

A short story

They called her the girl with the heart of stone—cold, distant, untouched by the world.

But legends, like gossip, often hold only half the truth.

Her story didn’t begin with frost.

Once, she wore a warm burnt-maroon dress, soft as dusk and glowing like embers after rain. It was a dress woven from hope and stitched with trust. When she walked, people said she carried the sunset with her.

But maroon, as beautiful as it was, drew eyes.

Eyes drew envy.

Envy drew deception.

At first it was little things—

a promise broken here,

a whispered insult there,

a friend who clapped with one hand and stabbed with the other.

Each wound stole a thread of warmth from her dress.

Then came the bigger betrayals:

love that tasted like honey but stung like smog,

smiles that cracked open into mockery,

hands that reached out only to take, never to hold.

Her maroon gown faded.

Frayed.

Dimmed.

And one winter morning—without even realizing when it began—her dress turned into snow.

A shimmering gown of frost settled on her shoulders, light but impenetrable. People stared, then whispered:

“She must be heartless.”

“She must be cold.”

“She must be made of stone.”

But nobody knew the truth.

Her heart wasn’t stone—

it was a hearth, quietly burning behind ice walls built for survival.

For every time she felt love, or kindness, or a moment of real connection, something magical happened.

The snow at her hem shimmered.

The bodice warmed.

And faint streaks of maroon rippled beneath the white, like hidden wildfire.

Because the dress was never truly snow.

It was protection—frozen only on the outside.

If someone ever offered gentleness instead of judgment, loyalty instead of lies,

her dress would melt back into that breathtaking maroon, piece by piece.

And one day, when she finally meets people who don’t mistake her caution for coldness,

her snow-white gown will thaw entirely—

revealing the truth that was always there:

A girl with a maroon heart,

soft but guarded,

warm but wounded,

still capable of loving with a fire strong enough

to turn winter into spring.