I lay alone in bed, the minutes slowly ticking by as if they were hours. Dad had left more than six hours ago. The moon shone high in the sky, and the night was bitter cold. My room was black. Though it was only ten, I had turned out the light. I was ready for sleep. Anything to take me away from reality.
The window was slightly cracked, and a cold breeze flew softly in the room. I shivered as it absorbed the room in its icy essence. It seeped into my heart, reminding me of the callous that had not fully healed yet, a rough spot protecting the heartache that had come and gone. I knew I would have another soon, but this time the last person I would've thought capable will have caused it.
I felt a lump form, deep down in my throat, and lay still as it creeped slowly upward until it hurt. It forced small tears out of my eyes, making them sting. I lay there until I couldn't take the pain any longer. Soon, I jumped out of bed and opened the curtains. Pushing the window open further, I waited until cold air poured into the room. It felt like I was in a cemetery on a cold night. But it was better than crying.
I stayed there all night. There was no point in sleeping if I would have nightmares worse than reality. I almost got to the point of closing the window, but I let myself freeze, because the pain of being cold was better than the alternative.