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Frostbite

She could feel it. She could feel the cold air seeping through her thick coat, the only thing shielding her from the harsh elements. She knew she should have listened to her father. He had told her to dress for the weather, to wear a hat, or gloves at least. She hadn’t, and now she regretted it. She hastily tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat and picked up her pace hoping, praying, that she’d make it home soon.

Oh, how she longed for summer. She missed the warm sunlight that seemed to lull her to sleep in mere seconds, the flowers blooming in all their bright, magnificent colours and the gentle wind caressing her hair. Staying up until the sun finally set behind the horizon, listening to the birds chirp around her. She missed it all, but what could she do? Summer was long gone, even autumn had passed. It was now winter. Cold, unforgiving, cruel winter.

The cold crawled across her legs, sinking its icy claws into her soft skin like a predator to the flesh of its prey. Her ears were faintly stinging like someone was prickling them with tiny needles. She buried her face deeper into the high collar of her coat, determined to keep going. She would carry this cold, this cruel beast, all the way home with her. There, she could light the fireplace and bask in the warmth of the flames. She would not, could not, be defeated. She would win. She had to make it home.

Home, however, was far away. She couldn’t even see her neighbours’ house yet. All she saw were tall buildings filled with cramped apartments, which despite her hatred towards them, looked homely and inviting. Thankfully, she recognised the street she was walking on. She was on her usual commute from work, rounding each familiar corner while trying to shield herself from the wind. In her haste, she had forgotten to take the shortcut through the park. She always took the shortcut on days like this, how could she have forgotten now? Was she really that distracted? Well, no use in turning back now, she just had to power through. Just a few more blocks and then a sharp turn right and she’d be able to see the familiar light-blue building she called home and the big, wooden double doors leading her inside. She could make it, she just had to keep her legs moving.

To shut out the cold that was still crawling across her body, she thought of summer days. Of butterflies, strawberries, and ice cream. Late sunsets, beaches, and fresh lemonade. Her mother’s smiling face. How she missed her mother. God, why did she agree with her parents two years ago? Why did she think that studying up in the north would be any better? The universities weren’t listed any higher in national or international rankings, nor were the teachers any better in here than they were in the south where her mother lived. She could’ve come to visit her father on holidays, bearing the cold weather in small doses. But no, she just had to move up north with him. She just had to move to the coldest and driest island up here, where she’d be stuck until the icebreakers finally cleared the way for crossing the sea. She just had to, didn’t she? She was hoping this winter would pass by quickly, but she knew it wouldn’t. She knew it was the coldest winter in at least a decade and it would be just as long as the previous one, if not even longer.

The cruel cold seemed to enjoy tormenting her. The icy beast had now dragged its body all the way to her abdomen and her legs had become heavy and almost numb in its wake. It kept making its way upwards, coiling around her like a snake. A strong gust of wind blew past her and she felt the cold sink its claws deep into her side, just below her ribcage. She gasped for air, inhaling tiny icicles that scratched her throat as they went into her lungs. It only made things worse. She could feel her lungs filling with ice, slowly freezing her from the inside. Her breaths became shallow, she couldn’t make a sound.

She had to get home. She had to make it.

She…

 

She wouldn’t make it. Her legs were far too heavy, and she could no longer feel her arms. The claws etched deep into her side and the icicles growing in her lungs made it impossible to breathe. She began to feel light-headed, the snowy scenery spinning around her. She could feel gravity pull her body down, taking advantage of her weak state. She wasn’t strong enough to bare the elements. She could barely register the snow melting underneath her when she fell to the ground. This was it; she wouldn’t make it home. No! No, she had to. Her father would be so worried.

But she just couldn’t move. No one was around to help her, either. She was all alone in the cold. No one with a hint of common sense would leave the comfort of their home and the warmth of their fireplace in these conditions. But she did, and how foolish was she for doing so. Now, instead of sitting in her best friend’s living room with a warm blanket around her shoulders, all warm and cosy, she was laying face-down in the snow. Her eyelids started to feel heavy, her brain too fogged up to keep her awake. This was it, she thought. Goodbye, world. You were cruel, but beautiful.

Wait, what was that? She thought she could hear someone calling her name, but no, no, she must be imagining it. Who on earth would be out here in this cold? She was all alone. She had tried to fight, to keep herself awake, to keep herself moving. But she gave up. Slowly, she drifted into a state of blissful unconsciousness, not even minding the cold that had engulfed her body.