Stark Cold (art)

She breathed and the cold enveloped her form.
“Not so bad,” she thought at first.
But then, that raw feeling of cold turned to frigid pain. The icy water drenching her naked body was expected and yet also undesirable. In the end, it was her decisions that brought the woman to this very moment in time, and there was nothing she could do to reverse them.
She blinked.
Her foggy breath could be seen in the air as the rain poured around her, waiting for the final beacon of painful truth to hit home.
Her eyes shifted to the overcast sky.

She could not bear this existence much longer.

She had hope, but such fantasies left her under the barrage of constant heavy droplets.
What she knew was simple.
It hurt.
Ice began forming on her naked skin.
Fatigue had set in.
Thinking had become difficult.
And then, she knew to escape would require the walking of many miles in this stark cold.
A man she thought she knew, he did this, and he knew what he was doing when throwing her naked into that frigid lake.
She should have known he was like this, but then, she had felt sorry for him. He often told sob-stories that made him a victim, but now she saw he was indeed a villain.
But this she realized too late.
It would be a long walk ahead.
She bit her lip, now turning blue.
“I can make it,” she thought to herself.
But, she knew she wouldn’t.

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