Cinnamon, Part 1 - First Snow

It is Sunday today.

As you can no doubt guess, that means I accept your challenge. However, I'd like to propose an adjustment to it.
How about we don't just write about topics the other one chooses? How about we write a story.? I will begin (now) and we write it a little bit more every day until Christmas Eve and see where it takes us. 24 parts total.
Of course we can write a small bit of something else in the beginning or the end if we want to, like I'm doing right now. But also (mainly) continue the story. I named the story Cinnamon, so we have something to use as a title. Not that this would matter, I'm just the kind of person who wants all the story-posts be named the same way and will be bothered if they're not.
Anyway, just in case you're not into this idea, I named the first bit First Snow. But I will not continue it, unless you continue it too. So you'll never know what happens if you don't.
Also, just in case: your topic for tomorrow is Tea. Obviously you can also include that in the story, if you don't want to waste a good topic. There is also the possibility, that we still give each other topics, and we just name the next part that, meaning it has to have something to do with it. Not sure if that's a good idea, though. Thoughts?

So here goes.
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People call me Cinnamon. It's been that way all my life. I've never asked anyone why, but I like to think it's because of my hair. It's the color of cinnamon, brown mixed with just a small hint of red that you don't really notice most of the time, but it comes out when there's bright red on the background. Christmas red. When I was little, my mom used to comb it and hum to herself, and braid my hair and made it beautiful. It was always the same tune she hummed, but I never found out what it was. I never heard it anywhere else.
I have always been one of those people who love Christmas. One of those people, who start planning months ahead what they're going to get for everyone and how to decorate and how big and bushy and what shade of green the Christmas tree should be, and where it should stand and how much decorations should be on it. I make a list of everything that needs to be done and baked and cooked and bought. And all that before December comes. When November ends and December begins, that's when I start doing all the things I have listed. But don't take me wrong. I'm not one of those people who stress about Christmas. Quite the opposite. I do all those things, because I love it. And every time Christmas is over, I feel a little bit empty, because there won't be another one for a whole year. That's the time of the year I love, when I feel most like myself.

December had finally arrived. It was the first day. I was still sleepy, lying in my bed under the sheets in the warm, just between wake and sleep, still in a dream but conscious I was there and it was December. My head was in a shadow, but there was light all around so I knew the sun was rising. And that I had slept late. Not that it mattered, I didn't have to be anywhere today, other than where I wanted to. And right now I wanted to let the sleep completely fade away before getting up.
Eventually I found all of myself in the real world and got up, opening the shades. There was snow on the ground.
There hadn't been snow last night.
But now there was. The first snow of the year. And it had stuck to the ground. The butterflies in my stomach took flight when I started jumping up and down in excitement. First snow falling on the ground was the perfect way to begin a December.
I wanted to rush out straight away, but something accompanying the butterflies insisted I eat first. So I dressed as fast as I could and grabbed something small to eat. I'd have time to eat more after I came back inside. Though I didn't know when I was coming. After all, there was snow. My joy was bubbling so hard I laughed out loud and almost choked on my bread.
I added more clothes on and almost forgetting my keys rushed out of the door. All I wanted to do was to breath in that cold air outside and go kick at the snow, make it fly and watch it gently float back onto the ground. But when I got outside, everything felt weird for a moment. It took me a moment to realize what it was.
It was warm. Very warm. Like it was summer.
But there was snow. That was impossible. I took off my mittens and bent down to touch the snow. It was warm too.
All I could do was stand there, staring in front of me, holding the snow that didn't melt in my hand. My heart sank, and the butterflies disappeared.
Sweat started to soak my undermost shirt as I noticed the warmth wasn't the only thing that wasn't right. I wasn't in the yard of my building. I was nowhere I had ever seen before. And there was a small creature shoving snow some twenty meters away from me. I started towards the creature, taking off my jacket and my hat, but it was still too hot. As I got closer, I got a better look of the creature. It had a big nose and ears, and skinny limbs, and looked a little like a goblin a friend of mine had drawn some time ago.
"Hey!" I shouted at it, confused, my heart pounding.
"Well, well", it answered, "Aren't you a funny looking creature."
"Me?" I was going to argue, but it didn't matter, "Where am I?"
"Where?" the goblin answered, "You are where you are. You should know where you are."
"Where am I?" I repeated.
"On White Island, of course. You're not a very smart either, are you?"
"How did I get here?" I asked. A panic was beginning to rise in the place of the disappeared butterflies.
"How would I know?" the goblin answered, "You're wearing funny clothes, too."
"But..." I didn't know what to say, "I need to go home, I have so much to do. It's going to be Christmas so soon!"
"Christmas?" the goblin laughed, "Now your words are funny too. What is this Christmas you're talking about?"
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So there you go. Probably one of the worst story beginnings I've ever read (or written. Unedited stories are fun). But maybe it will become something better.
But now, continuing is completely up to you. Have fun.

Oh, and because these December posts are different than usually, I will not put in these posts the thing I said I'd have in all the posts that you still haven't figured out.

~matu