The air is thick with ice. You’d think that isn’t possible but it is. Every inhale sends sharp crystals of air shooting through my lungs. My chest tries to protest, clamping tightly around my heart. I ignore it. I have to. If I stop, if I give up even for a moment, it’s over. My life. I will be dead.

The thought spurs me on. Cold fingers grip my lungs, trying to drag them into the damp mud beneath me. My feet are caked in it. I push harder, trying to barely let my feet touch the ground, desperate to put more distance between us.

Fear strikes my heart thinking that it’s not enough. A twig snaps somewhere close behind me and it takes everything not to cry out. It’s fruitless; my feet snag and I tumble into the forest floor with a loud cry of desperation. He’s behind me, I know he is.

Even so, I try with the last bit of strength in my limbs to pull myself up. I scramble onto my hands and catch a glimpse of my wedding ring under the layer of mud trying to hide it. In a fit of anguish, I rip it off and throw it as far as I can.

“Do you know how much that cost me?”

A chill runs through me and it’s not because of the cold. I go to turn around but a sharp blow to my stomach knocks me back onto the ground. Winded by the dull ache in my ribs and the ice that takes the opportunity to infect my chest, I can only lay there, watching the stars appear in the sky. I try to make out a constellation that I recognise, stunned out of reality until it confronts me face on.

Leon stares down at me, blocking my view of the open sky. Ridiculously, I think of how it’s symbolic. How an audience would be analysing this moment on paper or screens, pointing out how it’s a metaphor for my freedom. Always blocked by Leon. Always just out of reach.

He kicks me again, not as hard but enough to boot me back into my right mind. I kick my leg upward as hard as I can. A wave of relief lifts me up as Leon doubles over.