Icy

Their poisonous glares follow me, but I won't let them haunt me. They pretend to hide their laughter, but it shows all the more.

They are warm with each other, but I am icy: cold to the touch and unpleasant. They avoid contact with me because I give them chills, make them feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes I enjoy being icy, making them shudder, I refuse to melt, to show my weakness.

Inside my frozen domicile is hiding my former self. not dead, just frozen by the new identity I have pulled on.

She screams to get out, but all her words are trapped inside her by the blockade she is prisoner to. She tries to melt the ice with her warm breath, but her surroundings are too solid, too large for her to break through.