(A/N: Another confusing short story. Enjoy!)
Her heart was a beating fire in her chest, thawing the ice cast around her body. Water slid in drops down her frigid skin, slipping off to the floor and out to wherever it may please; she was not bothered about such trivial matters. She was concerned about the spark alight in her soul.
When sand had collected by her feet, years and years ago, she could only remember one thing- the torture. She would constantly ponder her meaning and place in this cruel and relentless world, sunlight beating against her skin. Even the lilies wafting along the rivers in pure tranquillity seemed hostile to her. She was dying- that much was evident.
Her iced-over skin crackled, sliding along her numbed skin and crashing onto the floor underneath her, for which she could not see. Her hands were bolted still, eyes shut to the wonders of the outside.
And yet, the kindness in her still-beating heart overflowed. Overflowed into the gardens, the rivers, carrying off somewhere far, far away, reaching a star and luring it to her.
As a statue, sitting among blossomed flowers and wild trees, she was not a sight. Alas, the star thought otherwise. She thought the statue was graced by God himself, and though she could not see herself, she trusted the star with what she had in herself.
The ice that once was the shunning feeling of death and despair now slid off of her warmed skin in sheets, pouring through to the inner side of the Earth, never to be seen.
