The snow covers sorrow

I've decided to write this passage in first person.

I'm dreaming, I know, because what I dream is to good to be true. It is too amazing to share with the world, and therefor I'll keep it to myself, because I doubt that anyone else could understand it's unattainable beauty.
It ends too soon and I'm lying awake on my sun-filled bedroom floor. I toss a glance at the clock and groan. It is already Eleven o'clock. I dislike late sleeping because afterward all I can imagine is all the things I could have been doing. Yesterday's happenings flood back into my mind and it seems the room has already grayed.
I discover, upon coming up the stairs that my mother is out shopping. I'm home with Abigail and the younger kids. Oh joy. I realize that a positive attitude could brighten things.
Within an hour I feel as though I cannot breathe. In this house no matter what is done I can't force myself to be calm and to smile. No matter how much I disagree with my mother I have to take my hat off for her in this situation, because she runs things a fairly smooth manor. The kids are making a mess, running about, screaming, and Abigail makes things worse herself. I feel entirely lazy, but there's nothing I can do and still be patient. It's a matter of survival for myself.
My room is freezing, but it's quiet. I try to read but the cold is biting at my fingers. To make matters worse Abigail comes in and starts sniffing. I feel like it's eating at my insides, this anger that's trying to unleash itself. I can't take it anymore.
Grabbing my coat, gloves, and boots I climb straight out the window. I don't know why I couldn't simply walk down the hallway, and the thought makes me laugh. Here I am standing shin deep in snow with just my socks on.
It's difficult to walk through snow and try to take in one's surroundings at the same time. The sharp beauty of winter makes me smile, despite the biting cold. I walk through field and wood for almost an hour. I can't think of anything but to keep walking, to get away, to be all by myself.
I finally stop, breathlessly. It comes out in cold puffs. I'm in the middle of a snowy field. All alone. Without another thought I let myself collapse in the snow. It soaks through my skinny jeans and gets in my hair but it doesn't matter.
The only things to be heard in the silence are my sobs and the random clattering of the trees a snow drops from their eaves. I lie there, feeling the sting of the cold and the warm tears streaming down my cheeks. The trees stop and my crying calms, and the silence of winter is terrifying, because behind it is some cruel power.
I finally pull myself to my feet, and drag myself homeward. With me I carry a new hope. New hope that I can be a stronger person, and that things will work out for the best. Behind me lie my fears, and most of all, my sorrows. Buried in the snow.