The wind howls softly outside the window, which is heavily shuttered, as she sits by the hearth.  A fire blazes within the brick, warming the room and casting a warm glow throughout as well as shadows that dance with the flames.  With winter in full swing, she can only hope there is enough stores to keep through the harsh cold season.  Her heart aches with bittersweet memories, as she stares into the fire, mesmerized by the incessant dance of the flames within the hearth.  There was something she lost so very long ago on a night similar to this, and with every winter come these feelings of despair and loneliness to plague her soul.  However, there still remains some semblance of hope within her heart that her knight might, one day, return.

            Outside, the wind whips through the bare trees, thus causing several limbs to scratch against the glass of a near by window.  She pays no mind to this noise, for every time it storms the little fingers of twigs play their little game.  The wind seems to pick up speed outside in the cold, for now she can feel its icy fingers slipping through the heavy shutters on the windows.  She stands up from her spot next to the hearth and proceeds to draw the heavy drapes closed, in hopes of blocking out the chill that seems to have found its way into her abode.  As she sits back down on the floor, she pulls the blanket around her shoulders once more.

            A lone tear rolls down her pale cheek, picking up the flame’s light and glinting for a moment until it falls, staining the blanket.  Why she cries, she does not know; yet knows somewhere deep within.  Something she lost, some time ago, which has left memories for her to endure with bitter sweetness.  She weeps now, for that lost item of the heart, here, now, in front of the hearth which keeps her warm.  Her coldness, not from the weather outside, but radiating from within her own self.  It dwells so deep within her soul, refusing to leave and to ebb as well.

            Oh, there have been times when someone has left her with a smile, that giddy schoolgirl feeling that she revels in.  But when it reaches the point where she believes the words to be true , no more reading between the lines and what have you, it is then when her heart breaks.

            She curses herself for being too passionate.  If only she could jump into the hearth, immolate herself within the heat.  Then, perhaps, she might be free from all this pain and hatred.  A laugh wells up within her, one that spooks even her own mind as she listens to herself laugh maniacally.  The flames, they grab her attention once more, as she sits there on the floor, bundled up from some cold no one else can feel.  The tears come more freely now, as she bursts within, he soul letting out the fierce cry it always does when she is tormented by her own heart.