And on that cold but sunny day I laid amongst the strangers that rested upon my bed like we’d been friends or something close to that. They whispered to me with evil intentions hoping to knock me down farther than I’d already been, hoping to scare me into the storm that followed. I told myself it would be better and I told myself it couldn’t get worse. I told myself about the horses and the bees and all the flowers to bloom in early spring. I reminded myself of the tea and honey that my mother poured with soft breaths and open arms. I dreamt about the boy and the tree and the magical star trips during the hours that no one knew. Something about the leaves and the dog who barked with excitement whenever he saw me gave me a hope or two. I knew it could only get better for the sun had risen today and not because it was told so but because someone wished I could live another day.