They Danced While I Froze to Death

They left me to freeze to death in our basement freezer.

The night before prom, my foster sister Leila came crying that I'd burned her Ivy League recommendation letter. My birth parents didn't even listen to one word of explanation—they threw me into that frozen hell in forty-five below.

I beat on that door until my fingers were shredded, screamed until my throat tore apart, but all I could hear from upstairs was their laughter celebrating Leila. Even Justin—the boy I'd loved since we were kids—texted calling me a fucking psycho.

As I drew my last breath, I heard Leila's soft voice outside the door: "Rest in peace, sister."

Now I'm a ghost, watching them lose their minds when the truth comes out.

Isla's POV

"GET IN THERE! You're not coming out until you tell the truth and hand over Leila's recommendation letter!"

Dad's furious roar echoed as my back slammed against the freezing metal wall.

Before I could steady myself, the heavy, rusted door of the cold storage slammed shut.

The lock clicked shut.

"Dad! I didn't take Leila's recommendation letter! She burned it herself! Let me out!"

I threw myself at the door, pounding frantically. Rust cut into my palms, but I didn't care about the pain.

Leila's tearful voice came from outside: "Daddy, just let it go... Isla probably just envies me getting the interview. The letter's gone, but I can ask the professor to write another one. Don't lock her down there—it's freezing!"

"Envious?" Dad let out a cold laugh. "Leila, you're just too kind! She's just a selfish little bitch! She needs a lesson today! This cold storage might be abandoned, but the refrigeration system still works. Ten degrees below zero—that's enough to clear her head!"

"Dad, please—"

"Isla, stop making a scene."

This time it was Justin speaking. The boy who once held my hand and promised we'd go to New York together.

His voice dripped with exhaustion and disgust: "Leila stayed up countless nights for that recommendation letter. Why would you be so cruel? Just apologize and hand over the letter, and David will let you out right away. How long are you gonna drag this out?"

"I DIDN'T! Justin, don't you believe me either?"

I pressed my face against the icy door. Tears instantly froze into ice shards, stinging the corners of my eyes.

"Mom... Sarah, you're there, aren't you? Say something for me! I really didn't do it!"

Silence for two seconds.

Then I heard my birth mother Sarah's voice, cold as ice: "Let her stay in there. When she's not so stubborn anymore, then we'll let her out. Let's go. Leila still needs to prepare for tomorrow's prom. Don't let this mess ruin the mood."

Footsteps faded away.

One step, two steps.

Until they completely disappeared at the top of the wooden stairs leading to the first floor.

I remained frozen in my door-pounding position. The underground cold storage was pitch black, with only the refrigeration compressor humming.

Wait—this temperature was definitely wrong.

Dad said ten degrees below zero, but my tears froze the moment they fell, and my breath instantly turned to white mist. This level of cold... at least twenty below zero, maybe colder.

Someone had tampered with it.

I was only wearing a thin silk nightgown—one Sarah had bought for Leila. Leila had rejected it for the ugly color and tossed it to me like discarded garbage.

Cold shot through me like ice picks.

I began frantically pounding the door.

"Let me out! Please, let me out!"

"David! Sarah! I'm your biological daughter!"

"Justin... save me..."

I pounded until my hands were bloody. My nails split and tore against the rough metal, some peeling off entirely. Warm blood ran down the iron door, freezing into dark red crystals before it could hit the ground.

My throat was raw from screaming, every breath like swallowing glass shards.

I curled into a ball in the darkness. My mind kept flashing back to the scene from hours ago.

Leila standing in my room with a lighter, smiling as she set fire to her own recommendation letter.

"Sister, what do you think Mom and Dad will do to you when they find out you burned my Ivy League recommendation letter out of jealousy?"

I had rushed forward in fury to save it, but she pushed me away.

Just then, David and Sarah burst through the door.

Leila fell backward, covering her face and sobbing: "Sister, why would you do this to me..."

Because of that pathetic lie.

My birth parents didn't even give me a chance to explain before kicking me into this hell.

Time crawled by.

My body began shaking violently, teeth chattering. Gradually, I stopped feeling the cold. A strange warmth enveloped me.

I knew this was severe hypothermia setting in.

My consciousness began to blur, white light filling my vision. I struggled to keep my eyes open, staring at that sealed iron door.

"Justin... you promised... you'd protect me..."

I tried to speak, but no sound came out.

My chest rose sharply once, then went completely still.

Time meant nothing.

Suddenly, I felt my body become weightless, the piercing cold gone. I opened my eyes to find myself floating in mid-air.

Below me, on the frost-covered floor of the cold storage, lay a rigid corpse.

My corpse.

Half the face pressed against the door, both hands frozen in twisted clawing positions, ten fingers bloody and raw, all nails gone. Blood had left horrifying scratch marks on the iron door before freezing solid.

I was dead.

Dead at eighteen. Dead the day before prom.

I looked down at my corpse from the void, eyes empty.

I laughed—a broken, ugly sound.

David, Sarah, didn't you say when I learned to tell the truth, you'd let me out?

Too bad.

I could never come out again.