First created December 4th, 2023.
Last edited December 4th, 2023.
Wake up.
The air that wafts into your face through the open window is as cold as death. You retract into your blankets, yet the cold proves too much for you to bear, and you’re forced to relent, getting out of bed with a sigh.
The cold linoleum floors send shivers up and down your spine as you land, bare feet first. You feel its grasp on the back of your neck, under the sleeves of your shirt, on every inch of bare, exposed skin as you retrieve a change of clothes from your drawers and enter your bathroom.
A hot shower serves only as the briefest of respites. Your waterlogged hair is wrapped in a towel as you stare into the mirror, brushing your teeth. The wintergreen toothpaste chills and numbs your gums. Spit, and rinse. The water from the bathroom tap tingles your teeth and freezes your lips as you gargle. You could swear it was set to warm.
In a fresh set of clothes, you retrieve your bag from beside your desk, slinging it over your shoulder and patting down your pockets, feeling the familiar heft and presence of your phone, keys and wallet in their proper positions. You are prepared.
You walk toward the door, checking the time on your phone as you unlock it. You place your hand on its worn, brass handle, and open the door.
Wake up.
You are buried in the arms of another, warm and cozy, like a well-loved plush toy. You feel your phone buzzing from your side, and you carefully reach under yourself to grab it, silencing your alarm. With great care, you extricate yourself from their hold, setting your feet down on the frosty floorboards under you. They grumble a bit, before turning over, and falling back asleep.
You smile a bit as you look back at them, retrieving some of your clothes from your wardrobe and retreating to the bathroom. A hot shower is just what you need to refresh your mind and relax your sore muscles. You turn the tap. For a moment, the water is freezing cold on your bare form, and you nearly fall over out of shock and surprise. The hot water comes quickly, though, and you’re able to wash up without much fuss.
Fresh, clean, and ready for another day after drying off and getting dressed, you retrieve your bag, look back at the person sleeping soundly in your bed for one last time, and open the door to leave.
A wave of cold chills you down to the bone, stealing the breath from your lungs as you bear witness to the absence beyond the door.
Wake up.
You are home again. You were very tired after unpacking everything you’d brought back, so you went to sleep as soon as everything was sorted.
Your former bedroom is cold. You always liked it that way, reminiscing on how you’d always leave the window open, just a crack, even in the coldest of winters, to enjoy the crispness of the early morning air every time you woke up.
You sit up. The blankets covering you are cold. You shift yourself so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, blankets thrown aside. You don’t feel cold at all.
You rub your eyes as you retrieve your phone from your desk. The clock says three in the morning. Looking out the window, at the dimly-lit suburbia beyond confirms this. A sigh escapes your chest, as you open the door to your room.
You take one step, without looking out.
You fall.
You feel.
Through your clothes, and under your skin. Your joints stiffen, tears welling in your eyes freezing into little blue quartz gemstones as you descend. Your skin turns pale-blue and brittle. You can’t move your fingers. You can’t move at all. You can’t even speak, scream for help, for salvation, for someone, anyone.
It’s so cold.