The Abyss

This is a short, poetic styled, story. I am considering transforming this piece into a new world completely. Ultimately I am considering taking this piece and creating a new world for my readers to tr

Icy, cold, crystals, fall and sting her face.
A rushing blast of frozen waves cascade onto her exposed skin.
She fights the piercing chill, but within her heart she fears she too will succumb.
Wax sealed letters were sent on horseback,
Handed to a rider dressed clad in uniform,
And then placed securely into his pack.
She once held hope within those written notes.
But alas she knows they have perished, 
along with their uniformed Carrier. 
A charming young man.
He carried her letters, along with her heart.
But that was before the reckoning.
That was before the crystals of winter had made a home.
Made a home in the once warm cavity that held her then beating heart.
On occasion she thought she could feel warmth.
The overwhelming sense of hope would start to envelope her,
but would cease as soon as the bitter, stinging, pain sent shivers through her body.
A constant, agonizing, reminder that things would never return to how they once were.
Things used to be different.
The house on the hill used to be lit up, at least this time of year.
Lights of every color; shade; hue.
It had captivated the land for decades.
But how things had changed.
Its windows shattered, its rooftop worn, the door now hanging by one rusty hinge.
It was only a matter of time before it too crumbled into the abyss.
Much like her mind.
She was nothing.
The land was covered in newly, fallen snow. 
As it had been, for what was it now?
Days? Weeks? Months.
Or had it actually been years?
She had lost track of the time.
Or did she simply choose to forget it?
Like the pain that shuddered through her body at the thought of things that had been,
Had she forced it out of her consciousness?
The sun was setting.
It caused a gleaming pink hue over the hardened ice.
She watched it go down.
It fell behind the hills much quicker now,
Much too quickly for her own comfort. 
She would need to begin her ritual soon.
The repeated pattern she kept to each evening.
The pattern that would prepare for night.
The pattern that would prepare her enough to survive.
But what was this purpose?
What kept her repeating these life saving patterns each, and every night?
Though it would keep her safe and alive through the night,
Was it simply awakening her to her own state of death throughout the day?
Something kept her going, telling her to not give in to the pain.
To fight until the battle was won.
But who had enlisted her to fight in this war?
Drafted into an existence that was outside of her own control,
Outside of her own will. 
Who were the faceless images, and nameless faces she continued to fight onward for?
Is this all truly worth it…
Those are thoughts for another day, she concluded.
Survival was key.
At least for now it was.
Would she feel this strength? 
This pushing force, again tomorrow?
She did not know what the dawn would bring.
The frigid temperatures would soon set in.
She would need to return to her shelter,
Lest the darkness of the iced and crystalized world surrounding her, finally overtake her.
The nights seemed to be getting colder.
For each day that became shorter,
The nights appeared to drop further into the frozen landscape of this new hell.
This new oblivion.
Only they could survive it,
The monsters that had plagued her dreams,
As well as all of her waking thoughts.
Slowly she pulled her coat up onto her stinging cheeks,
No doubt they had started to frost up. 
She could already feel her skin begin to crystalize and burn as she continued to walk towards her sanctuary.
Up ahead she could see the small glowing light of her refuge.
The small candle lantern delicately flickered in the window.
That same small light guided her home each night.
If you could really call it home.
The people of the old world said that “Home is where the heart is…”
But now her heart was kept far out of reach.
Locked away in a glass jar within the grasp of the being that has created this new land she had come to known.
He had once been such a charming man,
Dressed in his well fitting uniform, 
His badges had once sparkled and glistened,
Much like the smile that had once captivated her.
She needed to head inside,
Soon in this new tundra, her cottage would be the only safe place,
She reached the step to her small, deserted refuge,
Giving one last glance to the landscape behind her.
She closed her eyes as the sun finally said a fine farewell for the evening.
When she opened then they revealed a glowing blue hue.
Giving away the identity of what she truly was,
What she had become.
She opened the door with great haste and entered the cottage.
The snapping, clicking, and tapping of thirteen locks could be heard latching from inside of the building.
Tightly shutting out any notion of what was held in the outside world.
The light that had been flickering the window was doused,
Leaving the cottage in pure darkness.
Yes, time truly had changed.