Chilly...

Her hands were so cold. She scooted closer to the fire and held them out over the flames. She kept them there for as long as she could stand it. As soon as she pulled them back to her body the heat fled from them and they were cold again. She couldn't chase the chill away. She had tried hot showers, hot baths, hot tea, hot soup, fireplaces, fire pits, blankets, sweaters, gloves, mittens. Nothing was working. She would feel the warmth for a moment and then shiver again.

The cold had set in to her bones. That's what her mother would say. "I've caught a chill. The cold and damp has just set in to my bones." And it had. The cold has set in to her bones.

She was trying to remember when it happened. She had been cold for so long now it was hard to pinpoint the moment. She remembered being warm as a child. Running around in shorts and a t-shirt. A beaded line of sweat on her forehead. Smelly tennis shoes on her sweaty feet. Was that actually the last time she had been warm or the first time she had felt the chill? When she had run home at the end of the day, filled with joy over the things she had seen and done only to be greeted by her mother with, "Young lady! You are filthy! Go take a bath, you stink!"

She thought again. Surely she had been uncomfortably warm in high school. She could remember the heat in her cheeks when David Tavish smiled at her. The small trickle of sweat down her back when he asked her to dance at the Winter Mixer. She had been warm then for a moment. Until she heard him tell his friends that he was dancing with her because he had heard she was easy and would put out for anyone who was nice to her. They had all laughed and then leered at her in the hallway the next day at school. She had asked Emily Johnson why he would say such a thing and Emily smirked at her, "Like you don't know." She didn't though. She had never even dated a boy let alone put out. But Emily didn't believe her. She just looked at her like she was dirty and smelled bad.

She started wearing giant sweatshirts then. Folding herself inside of them. Trying to find a cozy place to hide and stay warm.

She discovered a talent for acting. She had known for awhile she could pretend. Pretend to be happy. Pretend to not notice people staring at her. Acting like she was dirty and smelled bad. But then she learned she could act as well. Take her pretend on stage and become someone else. She was warm then. Under the bright lights. They were so hot her fellow actors would complain sometimes. But she didn't. She liked the warmth. It made her feel...made her feel. Made her feel. She was warm then. For a moment. Then the casting director made it known what was required for the next role. The next big part. The next step. When she asked her friends about it, what to do, they asked her if she wanted to be an actor or not. Play the game or don't. But don't bitch to us about your opportunities. Don't act like your shit doesn't stink. She was so cold.

Had she been warm since then? Every moment where she felt warmth it was taken away. Every cozy sweatshirt ripped from her body. Every fire snuffed out when she stayed too long. Would she be warm again? Could she be warm again?

Why didn't you say anything?
Why did you put up with it?
Why didn't you fix it?
How dare you leave the mess for the next person.
How dare you complain now when you played the game before.
How dare you feel that you deserve to be warm when so many are cold.

She was so cold. It had set in to her bones. She reached her hands out toward the fire again. Maybe this time the heat would last. Maybe this time she would finally get warm. Maybe...