There are times when one cannot simply speak up, even if they try to. Maybe it's because the situation is putting too much of a burden on them. Maybe it's because they fear the one they want to talk to will react too negatively. Or maybe it's simply because they just lack the ability to touch that surface. The ones who write these letters suffer from these particular problems and more. Some will recover, find their voice again and pick up the pieces. Others will not be so lucky.

To her, this was a place she could call home. The bone-chilling winds bearing into her skin and the constant shivers that went down her spine were sensations she had grown to become addicted to. The constant howling within her ears served as her personal symphony, and its music worked and moved her like no lover within existence could. The white of the snow blanket was an aura invoked by Heaven, with everything within its reach blessed by the mercy of Breña. Her lone presence gave her a sense of dominion and freedom – something that would have only existed in a metaphorical sense beforehand. Nothing and no one had the power to stop her.