Love Frozen at Five

Once, I was the light in their eyes—the cherished child they swore to protect with their lives.

But when fever burned through my sister’s tiny body, and I turned the AC down just a little to ease her pain...

They called me selfish.

At five years old, they dragged me into a modified freezer, locking the door with a click that echoed louder than any lullaby.

For three days, I shivered in -20°C silence, forgotten like a ghost in the dark.

While they sang to her by the fireplace, wrapping her in blankets and kisses,

I curled into myself, whispering my name just to remember I still existed.

Neighbors heard my faint cries—smashed the door, pulled me out half-frozen, barely breathing.

Now, years later, they kneel before me, tears staining the floor, begging for forgiveness.

I smile—soft, serene, like cherry blossoms in spring.

But inside, I am still that child in the cold.

The love you gave me?

It was colder than that freezer ever was.