The decision could only be defined as my most recently discovered SAT word—dismal.
I was dying to watch Brandon’s TV segment but was distracted by Mom’s face that kept twisting in pain from the prolonged bed rest. Ice packs generally soothed bed sores. So, I went to our basement searching for one and was rummaging through the top shelf of our walk-in freezer when the door slammed shut, locking me in. The hinges had been malfunctioning, the reason why Milo didn’t want anyone going into the freezer.
The fifteen-by-fifteen walk-in freezer had two shelves on each side. It contained boxes of food Milo had purchased in bulk. The cold ground, the door, and the remaining wall were all made from steel, and there was no light unless someone opened the door.
Pitch black.
No way out, nor was anyone looking for me. I even left my cell phone upstairs.
Normally, I would throw a massive fit and scream my head off. However, no one would hear me from upstairs, and it was paramount to keep up the well-paced breathing.
“Paramount,” I translated another SAT word from my mind to lips. It was the first time my word choices weren’t a hindrance.
I was surrounded by older family members and introduced to mature topics early, along with advanced literature. I had the tendency to copy the adults in my life, relying heavily on the power of observation to speak the way everyone else around me did. My word choices often propelled responses such as,“Mia, stop talking like a grown-up.”
Meanwhile, my vocabulary failed to be a driving force in building camaraderie at school. And my tendency to articulate acute observations was deemed cruelly honest at times, leading to limited interactions with kids my age.
Though my friends or family didn’t appreciate my candor or word choices during our exchanges, my large vocabulary finally served a purpose. If I could remember the SAT words from this year’s list, then my mind was still sharp, meaning that the cold hadn’t set in yet. Confusion was the first symptom of hypothermia, followed closely by slurred speech.
“Obfuscate.”
A magazine article about surviving in Antarctica had detailed hypothermia prevention tips, especially in situations where oxygen was scarce. Never thought an article about Antarctica could apply to New York City life.
With my back against the floor, I built a fort with food boxes to shield myself from the cold. It wasn’t working. My hope now rested on my brothers since Mom probably wouldn’t realize that I was missing.
“Abandon,” I murmured, slightly dozing off.
Must not pass out.
I tried to verbalize the next SAT word but couldn’t remember it. Crap!
Shutting my eyes tight, I prayed to God to somehow signal my brother. Milo was always my one shining hope. No matter what, I had to keep faith that God would pass this message onto him.
“Mia!”
Was that a hallucination or an answer to my prayers?
Faintly, barely, I heard footsteps shuffling. It had been hours, so Reid and Raven must be back from school. Milo was also due home from college. His classes today ended in the afternoon. That spark of hope reignited. I dragged my palm to flap it against the freezer door.
“Inn hre!”
The panic-stricken footsteps drew closer. “Mia!”
There were now multiple voices in my proximity. With the last bit of remaining energy, I slammed my hand against the freezer door once more.
“I heard a noise coming from the freezer.”
“Fuck!”
The door flew open. Milo’s distinct scent surrounded me as I was picked up from the floor.
“I knw you’d comeee,” I slurred incoherently. “Never gave uuuup. Knew... you save me.”
***
REID AND RAVEN RETURNEDhome from school to find a voicemail from my principal. They panicked to hear about my absence and called Milo, who went into high alert upon finding out that I had left my phone behind. I’d never make that mistake, so Milo checked every crevice of our mansion of a home.
My brothers found me huddled on the floor of the freezer, covered in boxes and attempting to blabber big words into the air. When I tried to explain the logic behind it, they decided that the hypothermia had set in.