“Shut up,” I groaned as my eyes burned from observing the morning light.  I awoke as I always did.  My body was stiffer than an ironing board, my feet curled under the sheets, and I hid deeper into the blue blanket.  It was so cold.  I hated the cold.  I felt vulnerable when cold.  I squinted and looked around my room.  Its light gray walls blended in with the icy air.  It looked so misty.  I looked at my window; It was left open.  That was dumb.  My alarm clock was still going off.  It sounded like a train smashed through the walls and made its way into my room.  I extended my thin arm, to reach the clock, but it was too short.  “Should've learned my lesson.  Bring the table closer.”  My voice felt so dry. 

I walked out of my room into the living room.  My feet burned, but it did not bother me.  I threw my blanket onto the sofa and strip down as I inhaled the icy air.  I exhaled and watched my breath carelessly wander out of my mouth into the air before it vanished.  It was weird.  I stood there, completely exposed, and let the cold air engulf my fair skin…It felt so good.  I hated the cold, but I loved this feeling.  It was pain and empowerment wrapped together and danced on the edge of insanity.

I gazed at my living room windows that had no blinds.  I saw someone, a group of people.  It’s the neighborhood.  They complained about me for the past 2 months.  Apparently, I exposed myself too much.

“What I don’t understand is, why get up at 6 in the morning, stand in front of my house, and stare at me for 2 months?  Do they not have anything better to do?”  I waved at them, and they shouted aggressively at me.  They were going on about the kids or something like that.  My alarm went off again.  I picked up my blanket and walked back to my room.  God…I hated the cold.