The cold of the night whipped around stinging my bare arms as I continued forward. I was aware of every little touch the wind hit me with. On my arms, neck, face, legs. Yet I still wasn’t cold. Though I was wearing no jacket. All I was wearing was a pitch black dress. Strapless, with a long slit up my right thigh, the back of the dress dragging behind me. With each step the wind got bitterer and bitterer, more and more harsh but still it didn’t bother me. The sky began to cry as teardrops hit my body. The rain soaked me through and through but still no effect was left on me. I continued staring forward as I walked, with such intensity, afraid to look away. Water trickled down my face, but whether from the rain or my tears, I wasn’t sure. The cold wet grass turned into sharp unforgiving rocks and branches as I entered the woods. Every step I took tore at the soles of my feet. Branches whipped at my body. The night sounds filled my ears. With each movement I took, my body begged me to give up. I kept going stopping only to tear the bottom of my dress away which was already in shreds.