Gossamer

The unforgiving cold winds bit her shoulders, and she suppressed a shudder and wove closer in on herself, seeking heat where there was none. The stars twinkled warmly above as if mocking, or rather, indifferent to her plight. 

She could remember the day quite vividly. 

It all seemed as if it happened to someone else, and she was but just an observer, watching it all unfold, helpless to do anything. 

She doesn't remember when she went numb, though. 

The last thing she really remembers feeling is the rush of the wind fanning around her ears, and the scratch of the branches on her face as she ran. Ran till her feet bled, ran till she couldn't breathe, and ran and ran and ran. She knew it wasn't a choice, knew what was around the corner was worse than death, and they wouldn't hesitate to strike her down if she stopped for even a moment. She could feel her mind closing down-She could feel it, feel herself spiraling deeper, and deeper still she went, and she was suffocating, hanging by the last thread of her sanity; the air rushed out her lungs, and she was panicking-

She-she shattered. 

Then nothing. 

She couldn't feel it.

She doesn't even remember when she stopped.

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The morning come, the sun shone with a fiery vengeance upon the frozen corpse of a woman, and if bothered to approach it, one could perceive a peaceful smile gracing her lips, which would make even the stoniest of hearts wonder, if even just for a moment.