This is a bit of a different take on initial idea I had for my previous story (Trapped.). Not sure if I’m done with this concept just yet. Enjoy the story~

— C² <3

It’s so cold, colder than I ever imagined it could get. I pull my jacket tighter, fingers clumsy and numb, but it doesn’t help. The cold isn’t just outside anymore; it’s inside, like it’s crept under my skin, hollowed me out. I thought I’d be stronger than this. I thought I could keep going, keep moving. But now it’s just me, and the trees, and the echoes.

I think of Paige again. Paige with her sad, crooked smile and quiet voice that always seemed to carry a weight she wouldn’t let anyone else see. Paige, who let me in just enough to make me worry but never enough to really understand. Paige, who’s a million miles away now, living her life, and I’m here, stranded and alone, thinking about the things I wish I’d said. The things I never fully understood about her… or myself.

“Paige, you’re not worthless,” I’d told her, more times than I can count. Over the phone, in the dead of night, when her voice sounded so small, so fragile. I wanted her to believe me, but I don’t think she ever did. Or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe she believed it for a moment, and then the feeling slipped away, like smoke through her fingers. I don’t know. I just know I wanted her to see herself the way I did—strong, brilliant, kind. Worth saving.

But even now, the cold creeping deeper, my thoughts scattered like fallen leaves, I can’t shake the feeling that I failed her. That I wasn’t enough. I was just… an echo, bouncing off the walls she put up. A voice that faded the moment she looked away.

I sink down to the ground, my legs shaking too much to hold me up anymore. The forest seems to sway around me, the shadows flickering, and I wonder if it’s just my vision blurring. I lean back against a tree, closing my eyes, letting the cold settle into me, and I feel… empty. Like I’m fading, like the parts of me that mattered are slipping away, piece by piece.

In the quiet, Paige’s words drift back to me, words that cut deeper than she knew. “Empathy is for people who matter.” She’d said it like a joke, like a dare. She didn’t believe she deserved it, didn’t believe anyone could care about her enough to stick around. And maybe I tried so hard to prove her wrong because I thought… I thought if I could save her, it would mean I mattered too. But we’re both just… broken, in different ways, lost in our own shadows.

There was a time, back then, when I thought my feelings for her ran deeper. When I thought maybe… maybe if I could just reach her, if I could just be close enough, she’d see me. Really see me. But now, sitting here in the freezing dark, I realize it was never about that. I don’t love her like that, not anymore, maybe never really did. It was something else—a need to be close, to feel connected. I wanted her to be happy, to be whole, to know she wasn’t alone.

I thought maybe if I held on tight enough, she’d hold on too. But I’m the one who can’t seem to let go, the one still haunted by the memory of her voice, the one who’s here, slipping away, while she’s… somewhere else, maybe safe, maybe smiling. I hope she’s smiling.

The night presses in, thick and endless, and my head feels heavy, like it’s full of fog. I can’t remember the last time I felt warm. Everything’s cold, my thoughts sluggish, like they’re slowing down, and it’s hard to think, hard to remember why I came out here in the first place.

Was it Paige? Or was it something else? I wanted to feel strong, maybe. I wanted to prove… something. But all I’ve done is come out here to die alone, surrounded by memories of someone who doesn’t even know I’m here. Someone who never needed me the way I needed her.

I let my head fall back, staring up at the sky, but the stars are hidden behind clouds. Just darkness, stretching on and on, and I feel so small. The world’s so big, so indifferent, and I’m just… here, fading away. My chest aches, my body heavy and numb, and I can’t tell if I’m breathing anymore. Everything’s blurring, slipping away, and it feels like I’m dissolving, becoming part of the cold, the quiet, the shadows.

My mind drifts, Paige’s face coming back to me, half-formed, soft around the edges. I think of the times I’d stay up, waiting for her to call, just so I could hear her voice, reassure her, tell her she was good, and kind, and that I cared. And I wonder if she’ll remember me. If she’ll know, somewhere deep down, that I loved her. Not the way I thought I did, not in the way that burns and aches, but in the way that lingers. The way family does. The way someone does when they’ve left a part of themselves with you, even if you never knew it.

I wonder if she’ll be okay. If she’ll find someone who can reach her, really reach her, in a way I never could. I want that for her. I want her to find warmth, happiness, peace—everything I never found.

The darkness settles heavier, and my eyelids drift shut, too heavy to keep open. I think, for a moment, I can feel Paige’s hand in mine, warm and real, and I almost believe she’s here with me. But it’s just another echo, fading with my breath, slipping away like everything else.

And as the last bit of warmth leaves me, as the cold takes hold completely, I let go.

But it doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like… dissolving. Like I’m becoming the quiet, the shadows, the whispers in the trees. My mind drifts, unmoored, reaching for something to anchor to, but there’s nothing left. Just fragments, images of her face, her voice, scattered and slipping away.

I wonder if Paige would understand this feeling, if she’d recognize this ache in me that I never quite put into words. That need to connect, to be part of something… to matter. I wonder if, somewhere out there, she feels it too—the weight of all those unspoken things. I hope she doesn’t. I hope she finds something softer, something kinder than this endless grasping.

The cold is everywhere now, filling the spaces inside me that once held warmth, once held light. It’s taking everything, and I don’t have the strength to fight it. I close my eyes, and all that’s left are echoes—of words, of faces, of feelings I barely understood.

And in that final moment, drifting in the dark, I think I hear her laugh, soft and close, like she’s standing beside me. I know it’s not real, just another piece of me slipping away, but I hold onto it, let it wrap around me like a blanket, one last memory to carry me through the cold.

Paige… I’m sorry. Sorry I couldn’t be what you needed. Sorry I didn’t know how to help. I thought… I thought I could be your strength, your light. I thought maybe if I could save you, I’d save myself too. But here I am, lost and alone, letting go of everything I held onto so tightly.

The night pulls me under, deep and quiet, and the world fades into silence. My heartbeat slows, each beat fainter than the last, a quiet rhythm against the vast dark. I don’t think she’ll remember me, not forever, but maybe… maybe I was enough for a moment, a flicker of light in her life, even if it was only for a little while.

And as my last breath slips away, I think I finally understand: I couldn’t have saved her. I was holding onto an echo, a memory of someone who’s already gone. Paige, who left this world years ago, who let go long before I did, slipping into that quiet place I can’t reach.

She’s gone, and I’m still here, chasing shadows in the cold, leaving nothing but whispers in the trees.

And then… there’s nothing.