The cold penetrated my skin, freezing me right to the bone. I wished it would stop. I wished it would just go away. I knew that it wouldn’t though. It wasn’t possible. There was no one left for me. Everyone had left me, to freeze in this dark, place. One by one, they all deserted me, like I was never a big part of their lives. Maybe I wasn’t. I will die soon, in this dark cold room, but it won’t be soon enough. My organs will slowly freeze, and shut down, and then I will die, slowly and painfully. I’ve only been in here for a few moments, but it is enough for me to wish that I had been smarter about everything. If only…. what if…. those words had been thought so much that they were meaningless. Everything began to lose it’s meaning. I wished that they had chosen a different death for me – maybe burning would have been better. It would have been faster than this pain. I think a few hours passed, and that’s when I collapsed on the ground, shivering but still alive. They always said that everyone needs friends. “Where are they now?” I muttered to the cold darkness, through my chattering teeth. I might just have gone insane in that cold metal box. It was hard to tell. All that thinking, all that pondering and mulling over the past, maybe I did. A few more hours passed, and I could feel my body shutting down, like a malfunctioning computer. I hoped it was the end. Then someone or something opened a door somewhere inside there, and white light spilled through the crack. I’m dying, I thought, I’m finally dead! Relief poured through my body warming it, and cracking the ice. I was free from this world.
I woke up on a bed, it must have been days later. The room was simple; white, clean, and not much decoration. I didn’t know what to make of it. I was angry, and regretful, that I wasn’t dead. I was angry that someone had saved me, when I was so desperately close to the end. Only fate would have it that way. The only question was, who had saved me? “I did,” whispered a voice, from the door. I turned hastily, I recognised that voice. It was the voice of my sister, the first one to abandon me, the one who led all the others to hate me. “But why?” I asked, sure that it was some mistake. “Because you’re my sister, and sisters love each other.” I cried, and ran to her, and she hugged me, and gently rocked me back and forth, whispering, “It’s OK, it’ll all be OK,” just like she used to. Before the world came crashing down on me.