Cold was all she knew her entire life.

Cold were the hands of the mother who picked and snipped, ensuring nothing was out of place with her perfect daughter. Cold was the night when she chewed on wormwood and cried, aiming to kill the parasite growing inside her. Cold were the looks, the glares, the words when people found out what she had done. And cold was her entire world now, as her spirit detached from her bruised and broken body.

She never even got to scream.

She wanted to believe, truly, she did, but how could she worship a God who had left her in the hands of people who hurt her? Who let those men take from her what she could never get back? And when she sought help, when she made the choice to rid herself of the proof, how could that same God let them turn on her like rabid dogs?

She sat in the Church, on a cold winter night. Unseen, and unheard, she-

"Lily?"

She whipped around, to see you. No one was able to see her, how were you? She gulped and trembled slightly at the sight of you. You, a being with the energy and aura of some supernatural being. No, you were no human, but she didn't know what you were. Angel or demon, she wondered if she cared at all.

"H-hello?" Her voice was rough from disuse, her demeanour as nervous and timid as ever, even as a ghost.