Bab 1: Another type of coldness
It was cold.
It was not the normal kind of cold that comes with a decrease in temperature, not even the kind of cold that overcame you when you hadn't eaten anything and lacked a solid foundation for the day.
No, this was a very special type of coldness.
It would still slowly creep under your clothes, it would still silently but ever so persistently invade your body and grab onto your very bones, travelling always onwards until finally reaching your innermost core.
It wasn't the body that gave out at that point.
It was also grey.
The seats, the railing, even the people wore either colours of grey or black.
When looking out of the window of the moving subway, all one was able to see was a world of grey, differing and consisting of millions of different shades and spots.
But all of them were grey.
Deriving from the sea of grey, another aspect catches the eye immediately.
Hollow cheeks and eyes that were sunken in stare directly back at me. The figure I can see inside the window pane seems to be small, smaller then this person should be. All huddled together and cowering, as if making itself smaller would prevent some unspeakable danger to perhaps overlook this person and move on to another.
A grey coat wraps around the person's body, tightly pulled against his chest.
His?
Yes, although hard to see at first glance because of the introvert body language, when looking closer one is able to make out more details, including a figure clearly belonging to a man.
Or is it a boy? The person's height is hard to tell.
His hands are stuck deeply inside of his coat's pockets, protecting him from any further cold, only for them to fail miserably at their task.
Blonde hair, once combed neatly now falls down messily in his face obstructing his eyes from view.
A totally average nose peeks out from under the courtain of hair, gently sitting a few centimetres above his mouth.
No smile can be seen gracing his lips. His mouth pulled into an expressionless frown expressing resignation and helplessness.
Eyes drifting off and imagination taking hold of the mind, the sad picture inside of the window is replaced briefly with the view of a new face, smiling brightly as the sun, enjoying whatever moment transpires inside the pane of glass immensely.
All of a sudden, the sea of grey vanishes together with the face of the happy man in the window.
The train has pulled out of the underground labyrinth, the serpent having left it's underground lair, now slithering in the open to find a warm place to rest.
Not a cloud can be seen in the sky, a vivid blue creating a vibrant display of contrasts between itself and the surroundings that are basked and brought to life through the light of the sun.
A monopoly of colours no mortal and only nature is capable of possessing, breathes life into every object standing in it's path.
The light reflected from the street signs being passed by illuminates the interior of the train in a warm and welcoming, sky blue colour.
Now, everything is frozen.
The cold becomes more extreme, even when I tighten my arms around my upper body.
How can it be, that a single thought is able to influence me this thoroughly?
An hour ago, I was happy. I was training with my friends at the fight club. No matter how agonizing, how brutal or how exhausting the training was, it always made me feel relaxed, it gave me an inner calmness.
It filled me with warmth.
And then, a single step outside of the fight club and all of that vanished, replaced by this infernal, bone chilling cold slowly seeping through my bones.
All this change, just because of the thought of what my monotonous life at home would bring me this time around.
The ice spread even further, not only encompassing the inside of the train but also reaching my feet.
My legs went numb, burning with ice cold fire.
The feeling spread rapidly through my whole body.
I don't know if I'll be able to hold out 'till home today, I'm not sure if I'll be able to reach there without being frozen completely.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
LyonLaroi
LyonLaroi A very short story this time, inspired by a project one of my teachers gave me two years ago.
I'm currently experimenting a lot in regards to stylistic devices I can use to draw in the reader more.
I want them to be able to feel like the characters in the story do. That's the reason it's only this vague about the origin of the spreading cold.
Imagination can do more than words can.
I want to make people imagine.
I'm always grateful for feedback.
As always, written via mobile phone.
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