I can feel my sore wrist from the backfire of the gun I had fired so many times, the warmth and feeling gone from my fingertips, my ears, lips, toes, almost everywhere. I just wanted to go home, a sudden warm line slowly trails down my cheek, over a cut from the snow shooting past, I feel the sting as it stays and freezes up, oh how the boys would laugh if they saw me crying. My arm is raised as ...