The room was unusually cold. I woke up at about five-thirty in the morning. I felt so cold and unusually paranoid. Despite the suffocating darkness that had engulfed my room, I could tell why it was cold. The window was allowing a cold breeze from the arctic forest that waited outside. This was normal, for it reacted to my dreams.

I turned on the light fought back the encompassing darkness. As I got out of bed, I noticed something. The world outside of the window had become so lifelike. I could hear the sounds of small animals crunching through the soft, powdery, white snow. I could smell the several different trees that had come into view. I could see the dim light of the sun behind the clouds that were dispersing large, pillowy flakes. The sound of life outside was overcome by the sound of gusting wind coming from the field lining the outer edge of the frozen forest.

Slowly, I walked towards the window, so as to not scare the small, fragile creatures that were scurrying around noisily outside. This window made the image feel, sound, and even smell lifelike. The smells of winter came to my senses, then. I smelled the towering pines of that frozen forest, and the subtle smell of other animals that were always near. These things became so lifelike that I, for just an instant, thought that it was real. The sights seemed even more real than the smells.

The snow glinted ever so slightly, as the sun peeked from behind the thick layer of white clouds that had blanketed the entire sky. The yellow light of the sun disappeared, almost as fast as it had arrived. It began snowing again; the flakes, slightly larger now, piling on top of one another at an enormous speed. This couldn’t have been right. I did not ask the window to do this. Soon, the snow had piled up to the bottom of the window. It seemed all too strange. I began to notice that the flakes had increased in size, even more. Their color had changed to an almost searing white.

It hurt to look at the bright color. I saw that the sun had dimmed even more. The forest had become a distant silhouette in the frigid blizzard. Soon I could not see anything. What conflagration of errors had occurred in this window. I could hear the sounds of those animals again; the crunching of padded feet by brown colored hares with wiry fur. I heard the chirping of what I could only guess to be a dimly colored finch, in a branch that did not seem far away. Then I heard a growl.

A low, hungry growl of something that was most fearsome. A wolf had found its way and was approaching the hare. The sound eventually gave out to the piercing sounds of constant gusts of wind. That was all I heard from that point on.

Eventually, I realized that something had gone horribly wrong with the window, and decided to turn it off. I reached for the control panel only to find that it had frozen over. That is when I realized how cold it was. It was not a tolerable winter breeze, but rather a frigid, arctic wind that burnt the moment it left it’s soft kiss on your skin. I leapt for a cover from my thoroughly layered bed to stay warm. After grabbing a blue, wool blanket I began to make for the door.

When I had reached the door, I realized that it, too had froze. I could not escape. This window that was supposed to allow you to see anything had turned into a nightmare that was slowly freezing me to death. I was so cold. The snow then collapsed into my room. This window had turned fiction to reality. Soon I heard the growl of that huge beast again.

This time he came through the window. He was huge, four feet in height and probably weighing in around 200 pounds. He glared his white teeth and I saw hunger in his eyes. He began prowling ever closer. I hoped for something to unfreeze; for me to wake up from this horrible nightmare. I was so cold. I realized that I could no longer feel my fingers, which had taken a blue hue.

My feet were beginning to turn odd colors as well.  I could only hope that the deep freezing cold would kill me before that wolf did. If I did not die, at least I would be asleep. Then my attention was snapped back to the wolf. He had leapt to make his first, gruesome kill. Sleep had not given me mercy.

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