Need to get out. Now. Trent snatched his jacket from the nearby couch and unlocked the front door as quickly as possible, thankfully managing to fiddle with the lock for only a few seconds before he rushed outside into the freezing cold air. Snow poured relentlessly from the grey sky above, effectively creating a white-out and destroying his visibility to see anything five feet away from him. As Trent ran off the patio into the blizzard he slipped on the icy path and fell face-first into the freshly fallen snow.

Was it always this chilly in winter? It’s never this cold, never.

He forced himself to stand up and walk against the furious weather, unable to tell how far from the cabin he was getting. The wind whipped and whistled around him, and the freezing cold snow grew no less soft against him. Need to get out and escape, need to run away. Trent abruptly collapsed, falling into the snow again, and his breaths became short and fast, he tried to force himself to crawl before stopping as he gave up.

Can’t breathe, need to escape, can’t move.

He felt weak and suddenly the temperature of the area around him seemed to be rising steadily, to the point that he was sweating again. Burning to the death in a snowstorm, still can’t breathe.

While wheezing from his lack of air, he felt the earth swaying beneath him. His vision began to slowly lose focus as the snow falling turned into blurred movements. Each passing second, the atmosphere seemed to grow hotter and hotter to the point he felt he was burning.

Someone, please. Help me.

Everything Trent could see turned into a blank-white and he couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead, conscious or unconscious.

~~~

Trent’s eyes suddenly shot open, and he realized he was inside the cabin, laying on the floor, facing the front door. It’s unlocked. Why is it unlocked? Did I hit my head? Carefully, Trent touched his head, checking for soreness and bruising. No, my head feels fine. He cautiously got up off the floor, using the couch to brace himself as he stood up. At the moment, he felt somewhat lightheaded and wanted to prevent collapsing again. Is anyone watching me? Trent swiveled his head around for a moment, looking around for anyone or anything in sight. Nothing. In an attempt to try and calm down, he took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs slowly. Unfortunately, he coughed the air violently out as the recollection of what had happened, or at least what appeared to have happened, dawned on him, returning a heavy feeling to his shoulders.

Who brought me inside? Or did I crawl in by myself? Trent scanned the floor for water from the snow that would have melted if he had crawled in. Nothing. He didn’t feel any bruises or soreness on his body, nor did his head hurt, the only sensations he could feel were a rising nervousness and pressure on his chest and shoulders. If I didn’t crawl inside or have been dragged in, I had to have been carried in.

But, maybe I imagined the whole thing, and after my panic-fueled episode, I passed out on the floor… That can’t be right. No, I know I went outside, I even grabbed my- my jacket, where the hell is my jacket?

Trent spun around for a moment, looking around the living room for his jacket, and only now did he notice that he was wrapped up in an unfamiliar brown blanket. Smells like the hidden closet in the bedroom. Maybe it came from there? He then saw that the faded leather jacket he was searching for was hanging in front of the fireplace, which currently had a small amount of smoke coming from it. Trent approached the fireplace, grabbing his jacket and looking closer inside. The smoke itself was coming from a chunk of burnt wood and he realized that the fire was lit at some point, and presumably, recently put out. How did I not smell the fire smoke?

I couldn’t have done this and forgotten, unless if I’m losing my mind. I’m not, I can’t be. Trent tenderly removed his jacket from where it was hanging, finding that it was dry and slightly warm. His pockets still had his phone and keys in them, and he breathed a sigh of relief that nothing was lost. Nothing was taken, and my jacket would still have been wet by now. I think. What time even is it? How long have I been out? Trent checked his phone, finding that it was nearly 12:30. I’ve been out for three hours. Maybe it was nothing. This is fine. I will be fine. Trent refocused himself on making some lunch and headed over to the kitchen, already weary from the day so far. A sandwich with a glass of milk should be alright.