She was cold
She can't remember the first time she felt the cold but it was always there, in every breath and lying silently against her skin.
It was there the first day of school when the kids said "no you can't join us."
It was there that afternoon from her parents. "Why can't you just make friends."
It cloaked her, a silent companion, just resting on her skin, a fragile armour.
There were days it was worse, it rushed her a howling untameable wind that tossed her hair, stung her eyes and burned every breath she breathed. "I'm a new kid but I'm not an idiot, I won't let you draw me down."
The constant cold of her parents disappointment, the cold of complete an utter loneliness, the cold of people talking behind her back.
However there were her books, her embers that kept her warm, kept her happy, small fires that gave her relief.
Till they were gone. Bookworm, nerd. "Oh look the freaks with her books again."
The cold was back, she had fallen to the ground and couldn't get back, there words to strong a thick ice sheet that trapped her. Made her helpless.
It seeped into her very being, under her skin into her veins.
It was from her toes to her head til finally she wasn't just cold she was the ice.
She shied from any happiness afraid she would melt.
She left the fire of her books, she let that ember die.
She felt useless there was nothing she could do. She could give into that final cold. Use blades and replace that final warmth in her with cold cold air.
But she couldn't, she wouldn't she wouldn't let them win.
She was so cold
