one shot.

Somewhere in the corner of the dark house, a little girl is crying. 

She's done something terribly wrong, and daddy is very very angry.

She remembers his red red face, twisted in fury.

She remembers the fear she felt, it's chillingly cold fingers as it curled over her heart.

"Twackk" The cold fingers tighten slightly, and she feels her skin burning from the impact.

"Twackk" A second time, her skin feels like it's being eaten by something.. The ants perhaps?

"Twackk" The third time, the last time.

Slowly, her heart is released from it's deathly hold, and she feels her skin tingle with a numbness.

"Don't ever do that again." A harsh voice addresses her from above. From above? Since when was she on the floor? Curled against its cold surface, she braces herself for the pain that she would feel when her arms touch the floor.

Hissing slightly, the pain never disappoints her, it always arrives, punctually. 

Was life always like this? A torment of pain, a hurricane of hurt, and a torrent of tears?

She remembers a time, when the sun used to shine, somewhere above her.

Lifting her head slightly, all she can see through the blur of tears is the dim lighting, harsh against the fierce darkness of the room.

Crawling slowly to her nest beside the stove, she clenches the blankets tightly, drawing them closer to help fend off the cold. The stove helps slightly, leftover embers glowing with a little heat, and slowly she feels the numbness leave. Replaced with a fierce burning pain, she can't help but sigh. At least the searing pain is easier to bear as compared to frost's icy bite.

Drifting out of consciousness, Sarah left the cold and dusty world of reality, and entered the warmth of her dreams.

The next morning, it was reality again, biting her eyelids which were heavy with tiny icicles on each lash with a fierce coldness.

Curled deep within her little bundle of blankets, Sarah didn't want to move. She wanted to preserve the memory of a pair of warm arms encircling her, protecting her.

But it was all a dream.. Right?

A heavy sigh escaped her mouth as she threw the blankets off her, not without reluctance. The air was heavy with the dusty smell of smoke, as in comparison with the light jasmine that filled her dreams. 

Why couldn't her mother step out of her dreams and protect her like she promised she would? 

Why couldn't her mother suddenly appear in this cold and dark kitchen to brighten it up with her smile?

It wasn't fair.

She didn't choose this life, she knew which would she choose if she was even given a choice.

No, she didn't choose this life at all. Her father chose it for her.

Yet, dimly, within the dark recesses of her mind, she knew that if she were to choose between this life and a life free of everything - the dark, the cold, and.. the memories - She knew that instinctively, she would reach out for this cold and dark life.

Why? You ask her. Why pick this life again when you can start anew?

A knowing smile on her beautiful rosebud lips, Sarah sweeps the kitchen, her soul lost in the dreamworld of her memories.