14 Degrees

Give Up

A/N: This story is kind of forming on its own. Whatever comes to my head, I type. I usually plan my stories from beginning to end and then I work on them, but I wanted to see where this one goes. Imagination is POWER!! Hope you like chapter seven.

My fingers are numb. My body's cold. I can't feel my legs-or anything at all. Well, that was just an exaggeration. I'm just freezing out here!

I wonder if it has been ten minutes yet. Maybe hypothermia is already kicking in. Probably not-I only walked for about two minutes.

I use all my strength to stand back up. I continue to hug myself to keep warm. I feel like I'm frozen in this pose. I try to form another plan, but I can't think straight. I concentrate as hard as I can for the most logic solution to this problem, and then... I stop.

Why should I bother to come up with a new plan or make another decision? All of my decisions have led me to dead ends tonight. If I think of another idea, that will most likely just make things a lot worse.

I plop myself back down in the snow. I should just stay put. The strong winds blow and it knocks me backwards. I fall on my back and clench my numb hands into fists.

"Haven't you done enough already?!?" I scream. "You're the reason Jack crashed! You're the reason I'm gonna freeze to death!!" I'm going crazy. I'm talking to the snow storm like it's a real person. I sit up and continue to yell at the storm. Eventually, my shouts die down. What's the point? It's not like the storm's going to understand me. I clutch my knees to my chest like I did in the car. I'm being so negative. I have to find a sunny side to all this.

At least I'm not still kidnapped. Who knows what that other guy was going to do with me?

At least I'm not burning to death...or something...? It's hard to find a bright side to my problems right now.

The wind knocks me over again and I don't bother to sit up this time. I'm too tired and exhausted to fight the storm. I just lay against the fluffy snow and sigh.

"I just wanted some Chinese food. Is that too much to ask?" I whisper. This wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't alone. I have know one to talk to about this. No one's here to help me.

Will I ever see another face again?

Or is this how I'm going to leave this world?

I hate winter. It's so cold and chilly. You're fingers get numb and when you have to step out of your warm house in the morning to go to work, it's awful.

All I want right now, is warmth. I would do anything for a hot cup of coffee or even cocoa right now, and to snuggle up by a fireplace with that book I'll never finish if I don't make it out of this storm-if no one finds me. I want to be able to wear my favorite gray tank top without being cold, because the heaters in my house will keep me nice and toasty.

But what do I get instead? Snow-and ice-and wind-and cold, cold weather.

I find enough strength to stand up on my shaking legs, but as soon as I get up, the wind pushes me back down. I'm so weak.

That was my last ounce of strength. That was my last attempt to keep walking until I stumble upon a person-a building-anything.

I lay on my side and curl up as if I can keep all my body heat in by doing this. I try to stay warm, but how can I stay warm if I don't have any warmth left?

I close my eyes. I give up.

A/N: Am I doing okay so far? I want you as a reader to feel like you're in the story, experiencing the moment, too. So, if you're thinking right now, "Whoa, this story's so real! I almost feel like I'm there!" then I have reached one of my many goals for this story. Stay tuned for chapter eight!