I'm huddled in a corner with my knees pulled to my chest. The air is warm, but my skin prickles like it's cold. I shiver, and I try to make myself smaller; I try to bring the heat back to me.
What will I do now? What will I do now that I'm here? What can I do now that I'm alone?
It's oddly dark in here. I never thought I'd be so close to blind after I sealed myself in here. The light is dimmed by anger, doubt, and self-hate. I never thought It could be so cold, even when I'm burning inside.
Who will come to save me now? Will I sit here all alone? How long will I have to stay here? How long can I survive, now that I'm alone?
I don't feel hunger, pain, joy, fear, happiness . . . I don't . . . Feel at all. I begin to wonder if I'm dead. But, I can't be, because I hear my mind telling myself, "Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out." I know I'm alive because no matter how much I want it to stop, and how much I just want it all to be over, I still fell my lungs' gentle rhythm.
"Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out."
I want to cry, but there are no tears. I try to move, but my limbs won't budge.
Don't you understand? There's nothing I can do without you. There's nothing we can do without each other.
I just wish it wasn't so cold.