My mother didn’t want to pay alimony. So on New Year’s Eve, while I was in the shower, she stole his phone. The water didn’t drown out the impending argument. I stayed in there for as long as possible. Eventually, I had to admit that this wasn’t going to end anytime soon. I dried off. 

The first thing I heard when I stepped out was, “Emily, call the police!”.

 That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t say anything when he choked her, and I wasn’t about to start now. Still, I could barely hear my own thoughts. So I got dressed as quickly as possible and fled. 

This had become routine at this point. If it got too heated, and it was early enough for me to get out, there was always a place I could hide.

 There were four houses in my neighborhood that were home to kids that I could reasonably call friends. Two to the left and two to the right, three girls, one boy. Usually someone would take me in and if they didn’t, well, at least I could walk around. 

This was a ridiculous plan for three reasons. 

1. It was New Year’s Eve. There was absolutely no way that anyone was available.
2. The temperature outside was negative 25 degrees fahrenheit that day.
3. My hair was soaking wet.

By the time I had left the cul de sac, I was already crunching. My long brown hair mixed with white chunks of ice, resembling the dirt and car exhaust filled snow on the street. Still, I don’t think I realized the how cold it really was. No wind, no clouds, only a clear blue sky and a bright sun shining down masking the true extent of the bitterness. The only noise I could hear was the sound of my own teeth clattering. 

I must have looked crazed to anyone who opened the door that day. Covered head to toe in ice and shaking like a sick chihuahua. I wasn’t getting anything that night, except for sad, pitiful glances. 

Hypothermia comes in five stages. The first stage happens when your body drops below 95 degrees fahrenheit.  In temperatures below negative 30 degrees, if improperly dressed, it only takes about ten minutes for your core temperature to drop down to this level. I never learned how long it would take if you were also covered in ice. 

The first signs are barely noticeable. Your hypothalamus works extra hard to bring your body up to a regular temperature. You start to shiver uncontrollably. Your heart rate increases. Heat is circulated to your core, causing your hands and feet to get cold. 

I should have gone home. I nearly did. Got as far as the steps to my front door before the screaming got to me. Most of it just sounded like barking. A man and a woman, each straining their vocal chords to the absolute extreme. Trying to cover up the other’s voice. Every once in a while there was a word or phrase that was sharper than the rest of the noise, and managed to break through. “Videos”, “Veronica”, “Ivan”, “Invasion of privacy”, “Whore”, “ I could have you arrested”, “Amicable”, “Lawyers”, “Bleed you dry”. Then the sound of someone breaking something, probably my father.

Compared to that, the sound of my own teeth clacking together seemed manageable. White noise. The only place that would be open was Lux’s, a 24 hour diner, which was about a mile away from my house. I figured I’d be able to warm up with a cup of coffee.

I stumbled down the stairs.

 Ataxia, or a lack of coordination, is one of the early signs of hypothermia. As blood from the brain is routed to more crucial areas necessary to keep the body alive. Your motor functions become impaired. 

The walk back up the street was slower, less vigilant. I took my time. Tried to preserve as much warm air from under my coat as possible. Inching my way along. 

Three blocks away from my house and the world got quiet. It wasn’t loud before. I didn’t even notice the sound until it was gone. Like when the radiator shuts off. In all my life I had never experienced such silence. My eyes began to feel heavy.

When core temperature drops below 90 degrees fahrenheit, you enter the second stage of hypothermia. This is when the condition has shifted from being considered mild to moderate. Shivering stops, heart rate drops. Brain function starts to slow down. Breathing becomes slow and shallow. You start to feel tired.

Walking was getting more difficult as my muscles started to tense. I didn’t care. I still felt the chill but it didn’t bother me anymore. The cold had numbed me. There wasn’t a care in the world. My sister’s xanax had nothing on what I felt right there. I later learned that this was another symptom, apathy. Just kept walking, until I couldn’t anymore.

I collapsed in a field about eight blocks away from my house. Still conscious, but barely. Walking seemed so difficult. Lying there felt so easy. There was a house in view. I could see a blue door not a hundred steps away. Too far. Everything was shutting down. My blood was barely flowing. All I wanted was sleep. Fading, fading, then burning. 

The body’s last defense against the cold is to dilate the blood vessels, in an attempt to get as much blood as possible circulating through. This causes you to feel unbearably hot. 

It made no sense. I was lying in a snowbank, and suddenly, my skin was on fire. Something was cooking me. Something was cooking me from the inside and it was under my clothes. I needed to get them off me. 

My gloves were first. I frantically shed them, exposing my already half frostbite hands to the elements. Then I pulled my coat off.  Then my sweater. Then black.

When core temperature dips below 82.4 degrees fahrenheit, you enter the third stage of hypothermia. Your case is now considered severe. You lose consciousness. 

I was going to die. I was dying there. Christopher McCandless died in the Alaskan wilderness, 3,400 miles from where he grew up, and I was dying in a field, not fifteen minutes from my house. You lose vitals at 75 degrees. Resuscitation becomes impossible at 59. Already halfway down the drop, lying in a snow bank in nothing but jeans and a training bra, it was just a matter of time. I was plummeting fast, 81, 80, 79, 78, 77. 

I awoke in the hospital. Heat compresses placed on my limbs and salt water injected into me. My parents were already berating me for going out in this temperature. 

It turns out the people that lived in the blue door house owned a dog.  It must have been quite a shock. You step outside to let your dogs take a piss, only to find an unconscious, half naked, blue child. Still, it saved my life.

The clock struck 12.