She was alone, the worst place to be. The chills would stop, her throat burnt with infection. She reached out to her logic that was clouded by trauma. This led her to a place she was most afraid, death. She would try deep breathes, she would try to convince herself she was safe but death is always right there.
Late at night she’d listen to flute music and count the falling pears that hit the roof top. She’ll wake tomorrow and confront her fear once again, that good old friend.