It’s cold. So cold that my breath is a white mist that puffs around my mouth and nostrils. The frost bites down to my core and tingles at my fingertips.
It’s so dark my eyes hurt from trying to distinguish my surroundings. I grab aimlessly in pitch black darkness trying to grasp something, anything…
My palms hit an uneven surface, a wall, a stone. It’s wet and terribly cold I try to palm my way and move forward along the newly discovered wall. There must be a way out, there must be light somewhere.
My desperation nearly sends me into hyperventilation. I must get a grip, I must move forward. That’s the only way to survive, one step after another.