Frozen Cycle.

Prologue:

It was a cold winter; colder than the year before. The trees were all frozen, icicles hanging in place of the leaves and frost where moss once flourished. The tree glittered with frost and snow as I came up to it, seeking shelter from the bitter wind snapping at my exposed face and arms. Running from him may have been a bad move on my part in the long run, but you either sink or swim. And I wasn't about to sink.

Especially not into a puddle of my own blood. Either way I looked at it, I was completely and utterly fucked. Any theory I came up with, I was dead in the end.

But would I lay to my frozen fate that I feared was slowly working its way through my veins? Or would I give up, let him find me, go back inside with the warmth and smell of a hot crackling fire? Let him pamper me as we argue over my stupid choices again, watch him raise a fist at me again?

Right now, I need to keep moving. I can feel the ice slowly seeping into my body. I won't die here. Not like this.