“There are no written ways to arrive at this.”

Thomas found himself trapped inside a dimly lit storage unit, nestled deep within the woods in the dead of winter. He could imagine the outside, the tree’s skeletal branches casting shadows on the snow-covered ground. The bright sun giving off a slight warmth to combat the cold.

Thomas shivered while he huddled in a corner of the storage unit, his fingers numb and stiff from the cold. He couldn’t remember how he had ended up here, surrounded by nothing but cold metal and forest. He only had himself, a tiny journal and pen in his pocket.

With each passing hour, the temperature dropped lower and lower, and Thomas’s situation grew increasingly dire. He tried pounding on the walls, shouting for help, but the only response was his own echo bouncing off the walls.

As the hours stretched into days, Thomas felt his strength waning. He knew that if he didn’t find a way out soon, he would succumb to hypothermia or dehydration.

With trembling hands, Thomas tried to bang, kick, and bodyslam into the door to no avail. His last amount of energy was slipping with each attempt.

Through sheer determination and desire to see his family again, Thomas had endured for three full days. He felt his eyes grow wearier with each passing hour. He had lost control of his fingers and toes and they had turned a deep blue. With no water and no warmth he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He felt tired, so so tired. He had been fighting off sleep for as long as he could, but he couldn’t keep holding on.

With all his remaining strength, he held the pencil to the best of his ability and wrote the past couple days events down. He ended his letter with a heartfelt message to his family. He hugged his journal to his chest and sat back against the walls.

He let himself close his eyes.