Shiver

Tingles and sparks run across my skin. Tickles and coarseness between my clothes and skin. I vibrate and shake, I can feel every cell alight with movement, but no one else can see it. My hair stands on end, my skin bumped and raised, as though the millimeters of air will provide substantial insulation.

My throat is raspy and pained, the air burning my lungs. Is it really burning though, if the particles are frozen and crystalized into small weapons? Maybe freezing is a better word but I've been frozen, it doesn't hurt quite so much.

My fingers have paled, all the blood rushed to my head, my chest and my heart, trying to keep all the systems warm and running. But now I am cartoonish, my fingers blue and arms paler than snow; my face and chest are bright red, my nose the color of a clown's. And the sounds I make, as though I have spent hours laughing too hard. When did breathing become so hard?

My shaking is now visible, my whole body spasming in shock, muscles jerking and flexing, anything, no matter how futile, to try and keep me warm. My fingers are black, I can only assume my toes are the same, I bet if someone pulled on one they wouldn't be surprised to see it break. I feel like a soldier, losing the battle as my body struggles to survive, everything is bleeding or broken, it's amazing I have yet to die. I no longer stand and I no longer shake. My body has curled up in a ball, supposedly to keep me warm, but I think it is just to lessen the pain. Everything hurts, well except for my fingers and toes, I lost feeling in them ages ago. My mouth is gaping, trying to breathe as much as I can, but there is nothing left to absorb all that oxygen, the ice crystals shredded any chance of that.

They say freezing to death is like going to sleep. I guess that makes sense, as your body loses the energy to breathe. No oxygen means no consciousness and at that point you're too far gone, death is imminent but quiet, its rather ironic since there's no snow on the ground.

Pain is everything, every cell is alight, my eyes would open only to shut against the light. Fire, hell, that is where I must be, but wait...something, soft? That can't be. I feel pressure on my torso, it no longer hurts to breathe, I can feel my fingers and toes, although it is only nerve pain. I am wrapped in layers, of blankets and sweaters, each hand is in a warm bowl of water, good thing being half dead prevents me from peeing. My pale complexion has lessened, blood returning to its flow, someone is sitting on my legs, stretching them out from being curled too long.

I can no longer see my breath, or feel my body shiver and shake, I am no longer seizing to keep warm, no longer wracked with numbness and pain. It is so nice to feel warm again. It is such a rare occasion these days.

Everyday is the same, as I shiver and shake. I wear layer after layer, huddle under blankets and jackets. I can never get warm, my legs always crossed at least twice, my body hunched, shoulders curled, doing everything I can to stay alive. If you look really close, down to the second, you can see my fingers twitch, my skin made entirely of goosebumps. I freeze and I shiver and shudder and shake, all through the winter until summer shares her warming embrace. I want just to be normal, to not constantly wear four layers of clothes. I don't like waking up every morning just to be cold. To be cold is to suffer but never to die, all I can do is bundle up and shiver, and shiver and shiver until spring returns once again.