The air bit at my exposed nose and cheeks. My hands were starting to turn red, they burned numbly beneath the box I was carrying. Alright, maybe my decision to leave my gloves behind wasn't the best, but I could always buy new ones later. I certainly wasn't going to deal with him again just for a pair of ratty old gloves. I knew he'd try to "talk" with me again, try to convince me that we could still fix things, try to explain everything away like he had a hundred times before. I was done with all of that.

"Goodness, I can't believe you were going to try to do all this yourself," Mrs. Harrison huffed, setting a box in the entrance.

"It's not too much stuff," I said, shrugging. "Besides, I don't have anyone to help me and I definitely couldn't afford movers."

I nodded. Yet again, I'd given up everything I had for a guy, and yet again, I was let down. Only, this time, I made the mistake of traveling several hundred miles from home for it.

When Greg said he had the opportunity to move to Alaska for work, I thought it would be an opportunity for us too. We were going through a rough patch. Again. I was hoping moving here would give us a fresh start. However, it seemed like he decided to bring the same old bullshit along with him though. We'd been here less than two months when I caught him cheating again. That was when it really clicked for me. If a commitment this big couldn't change him, nothing ever would.

When I think about it, it was really my fault. After all, hadn't he already cheated on me before? Shouldn't that have been the red flag that told me things weren't going to work out? I certainly wasn't the first woman to forgive a guy way too many times, but it didn't make me feel any less stupid for doing so.

But that was all in the past now. This was going to be a fresh start. A fresh start for me. I really had Mrs. Harrison to thank for that. She was renting me this place for next to nothing. If it wasn't for her, I'd be freezing to death in the streets or hitchhiking back to Ohio.

As unlucky as I was with love, that's how lucky I was to meet her. It was two days after I found out Greg was cheating on me. I didn't confront him when I found out. I couldn't. After all, where else could I go? I was sitting in a small diner, staring into my cup of coffee and wondering what my life had turned into when she appeared. She happened to be my waitress. She also happened to be the most caring woman I'd ever met.

I didn't think much of her at first. A little, grey granny pouring coffee in a diner, like the hundreds before her. I noticed her glancing my way a couple of times, but I was too busy drowning in self-pity to care. She only lasted about thirty minutes before she came over to check on me. I'll never forget the way she looked at me with her large, concerned eyes and asked me:

"Darling, are you okay?"

I guess it doesn't take much to break you once you're already broken, and I broke down completely. I started tearfully pouring my heart out to this complete stranger. She could've run away. She could've scurried off with the excuse that she'd get me more coffee or something and left me there. But she didn't. Instead, she nodded along sympathetically while I told her about everything that had happened.

"Oh, I've been there before," she muttered, shaking her head. "My first husband was a real bastard. I know what it's like to be cheated and left out in the cold. Literally! He threw me out of our house so his tramp could move in. But, anyway, in times like this, I know the last thing you need or want is my sympathy."

I nodded vaguely. I thought that would be the end of our interaction. I expected her to put my bill down and trot off to the next customer like anyone else would. I couldn't begin to express my surprise when, instead, she leaned on my table with the biggest smile on her face and said:

"What you need is some help."

I was really surprised when I learned her husband owned the diner I'd met her in. She was retired and waitressing there to kill time. Apparently, this house had been their first place together and they never had the heart to sell it after they moved. They rented it out occasionally to tourists and hikers, but it had been empty for a while now. The diner was doing well, they didn't need the money, she offered it to me at a bargain. So, here I was now. Moving the handful of things I had into a little backwoods cottage.

I call the deal she gave me "a bargain," but it was really a charity. A godsend even. This woman was my own personal Mother Teresa in every sense. Not only had she been generous enough to practically give me this place, but when she found out I had no one here to help me, she offered to help me move in herself.

I watched as she placed another box at the front entrance. She stomped the snow off of her boots and shook her head, trying to shake off the cold. Wisps of her curly grey hair peeked out from the knitted cap she wore, her face was flushed. She wasn't in bad shape for her age, but I doubted this kind of work was easy on her. She didn't show it though. She smiled as warmly as ever as she looked at me.

"Welp, I think that's the last one, Darling. Is there anything else you need help with?"

"You've already done too much," I sighed. "If I live to be a thousand, I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done for me."

"You don't have to pay me back," she chuckled, " just pay it forward. Next time you see someone in a tight spot and you have the ability to help them, do it. Sometimes all a person needs is a little help to get their life back on track."

"Why don't I start now? I don't know about a tight spot, but you certainly look like you could use a hot drink. How about I make you one?" I offered.

She waved me off. "Very kind of you, Darling, but I'd better get going. First tip living in Alaska: the weatherman is your best friend. Weather report said there was a storm coming, and I need to beat it home."

"Alright, drive safe then. Thank you, Mrs. Harrison. For everything."

She grimaced. "Ugh. First of all, call me Matilda. 'Mrs. Harrison' makes me sound like some old crone. Second, don't make it sound like this is our final goodbye or anything. I'll pop in from time to time to see how you're holding up, and if you have any problems don't be afraid to call me or Harry. After all, we are your landlords."

"I'll remember that. Maybe you should get going though," I said, pointing out the window. "Based on those clouds, I'd say that storm you mentioned isn't far off."

"Whoops, I got caught up gabbing again," she mumbled, digging for her keys. "See you later, Darling. Stay warm."

She scurried out the door to her car. I heard the old engine fire up a moment later and fade off into the distance. I was alone now.

I looked around at the old cottage. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had kept it in good shape all these years. I was too grateful to think of the place as "old-fashioned." "Classic" was a much better description.

The front entrance had a doorway to its right that led to a cozy living room. There were a couple of comfy-looking armchairs and a beautiful stone fireplace in it. The door to the left held a small kitchen. Big enough for a stove, a counter, and a table that could fit two chairs. The bedroom and bathroom were at the back of the house. The bathroom had its own door, but there was also a door in the bedroom I could use to get to it. Handy on those cold nights I didn't feel like trekking through the hallway.

A cozy little cottage in the woods. Perfect for a young couple. Or a newly single woman with not too many options.

The only downside to this place was how far it was from town. It was at least a ten-minute drive, and that was when the weather was good. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be too bad, but with blizzards waiting around every corner and poor cell reception in this area, it was certainly an inconvenience. Still, I'd take inconvenient over freezing in the streets any day of the week.

I went to the living room and began to stack some logs in the fireplace. Things would be tough now. I'd have to put in a lot more effort to get the things I needed. No popping into the nearest Walmart for an instant-flame fire here. I'd have to chop my own wood, start my own fires, and be really careful about which supplies I did and didn't think were "necessary."

The second of those was proving to be the hardest at this point in time. Mrs. Harrison suggested flint to save on the cost of matches. In my case, I needed to save every penny I could. However, as I struggled to even get a spark off the chunk of rock, I wondered if the few extra dollars might be worth the investment. Luckily, I got a good strike a couple of tries later and the fire started to crackle to life.

I gave a satisfied sigh as I watched the small flames grow and spread across the wood. That hot drink from earlier was sounding good right about now. I decided to make some tea while I waited for the living room to warm up. I dug around in the box I thought I had put my kettle in. I'd get around to unpacking things tomorrow. Today, I just wanted to relax in my new home.

My home. The words felt so nice just to think. Had I ever really had a place that was "mine" before? It felt like I'd always been living with someone. My parents, a friend, a boyfriend. I'd never really been on my own.

Maybe that was my problem. I depended on other people too much. There was always someone there to take care of me, to pick up the slack where I left it. I didn't have that option anymore. I was completely responsible for my own life now, and my own happiness. That knowledge felt both exciting and terrifying.

"No more excuses, Linny," I muttered to myself. "If things don't work out now, you only have yourself to blame. So get your shit together."

I finally found the kettle two boxes later, buried underneath a pile of socks. I probably should have organized things while I packed, but I just wanted to get out of that apartment as quickly as possible. I packed everything while Greg was at work. I didn't want to deal with the big, tearful show he'd put on to try to convince me to stay. I threw things wherever they'd fit. Good thing I did too. I had just finished packing the car when he got home. I got a small sense of satisfaction remembering the look of shock on his face as I got in the car and drove off without even saying goodbye.

Which reminded me, I probably needed to turn my phone back on. Reception out here wasn't great, but I still might need it for emergencies. I turned it on while the kettle heated up. Surprise, surprise. The first things that greeted me were the notifications that I had fifteen text messages and seventeen missed calls.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't even going to look at his messages. I was done, finished, cutting off all contact, and going cold turkey. I knew how this played out. First, I'd read his sappy messages and start to miss him. So, of course, the next time he tried to call me I'd answer. Then, I'd buy into all the crap about mistakes and how he still loved me. Of course, it all ended with me giving in and going back to him. Not this time though.

I had just finished deleting and blocking all his contact information when I heard the kettle whistling. I gave a frustrated sigh as I poured the water into my cup. There. It was done. I was officially done with him.

As I let the tea steep I looked out the window. A few big, puffy-looking flakes were starting to fall. I didn't have a TV, so I'd have to get a radio if I wanted to hear the weather reports. The last thing I wanted was to be caught in a bad storm with no supplies. In a place like this, that could be fatal. Especially with how far I was from town. I picked up the hot mug to warm my half-frozen hands. Gloves probably wouldn't be a bad idea either.

Between the hot tea I was sipping and the fire that began to heat the tiny cottage, I finally started to warm up. I took off my wet coat and hung it near the entrance. I even felt confident enough to take off my boots. I clutched my tea close to my body and curled up in one of the armchairs near the fireplace.

Another small revenge I'd taken on Greg was eating a lot of the good food in the fridge before I left. I was still pretty full, so skipping dinner tonight wouldn't be a big deal. I sipped at my tea slowly as the dark clouds made the already fading light disappear even quicker. I could hear the wind begin to pick up outside. The storm would be here any minute. I hoped Mrs. Harrison was home by now.

I knew the cottage was well built, but I still couldn't help but shiver as I heard the windows rattle in the wind. It might be a good idea to head to bed early, sleep out the worst of it, and start fresh in the morning. Most of the warmth had faded from the tea by now. I gulped the rest of it down and left the mug on a side table. I'd take care of it tomorrow.

Another large gust of wind swept through the forest. Part of me worried about a tree falling on the place while I slept. I shook off this thought. The cottage had been here for how long? If it hadn't happened by now, then it probably wasn't going to.

I sighed and headed for the bedroom. I needed some sleep. At this rate, I'd be up all night worrying about every little gust of wind or swaying tree I happened to hear.

Another very fortunate thing about the house was that Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had left a lot of their old furniture in it when they moved. To the guests who stayed here, it was a convenience. To me, it was a necessity. I didn't really have the means to move my furniture here. The bedroom was again, small, but it suited my needs. There was enough room for a large cedar wardrobe, an end table with a lamp, and a good-sized bed.

The bed was piled with blankets and comforters. It looked like something you might find in your grandmother's house, cushy and inviting. I was sure it would be insanely cozy as soon as it warmed up. I didn't even bother getting dressed for bed. I immediately dove underneath the covers and started to snuggle up.

Of course, I couldn't help but notice the vague feeling of loneliness as I did. Sleeping alone wasn't really my favorite thing to do. I tried to push this thought from my mind. Better to sleep alone than share your bed with some scumbag cheater. Besides, this meant I didn't have to wait up for him to come home late from "work" anymore. No more being woken up by someone making a racket in the bathroom at two in the morning. Best of all, this meant I could hog all the bed space and blankets that I wanted without anyone complaining. Sleeping alone was starting to sound better and better.

At the very least, it felt good enough for me to get cozy and start to drift off. I'd need my rest. I had a lot of things I had to do tomorrow. I started running through the checklist in my head. I listed off the things I had to do again and again until it finally put me to sleep.

A piercing shriek suddenly filled the air. I bolted upright in my bed and looked around for the source of it. It was pitch black. It must have been the middle of the night by now. I waited a moment, listening, but I heard nothing. I was half-convinced I must have dreamed the sound when I heard it again. My heart started racing wildly. Until I heard it a third time.

This time I noticed the sound of shaking branches and rattling windows along with it. The wind. I let out a deep sigh of relief. Even knowing what it was, I couldn't help but jump a bit when I heard it whistle past me again. It was a really eerie sound. The creaking of the branches outside didn't help either. I took some deep breaths to calm myself.

It was just a new environment. The noises seemed scary because I wasn't used to them yet. I'm sure a month from now I'd probably look back on this night and laugh at what a scaredy-cat I'd been. However, that still didn't stop me from being a scaredy-cat now. I sat upright in bed. Every time I tried laying down another gust blew through and frightened me.

Just wind, just wind. As much as I kept repeating the words in my head, I couldn't make myself relax. It didn't help when I noticed a new sound along with the shrieking. A loud, hollow thumping.

It sounded familiar, but what was it? I heard it again. It was close to me. The trees? No, they were too far away for that. There was a tarp outside that covered the firewood, maybe it got loose? No, this was definitely thumping, not flapping. My terror almost disappeared completely in this quest to figure out this mystery. Then I recognized the sound.

My heart stopped in my chest. A chill stronger than anything outside filled my body. A horrible realization filled me at that moment. I was alone, in a blizzard, deep in the woods, in the middle of the night, and someone was knocking on my door.