It was a liquid darkness that enveloped Ella in frigid despair, upon opening her eyes. The atmosphere was cloudy and smudged, like paper worn with salty tears. She blinked rapidly in a vague attempt to clear her eyes of the murky film that covered her abnormally violet irises. She couldn't quite identify where she was, or how she got there-- her memories were as blurry as her vision. One thing was certain; she was definitely not on Earth. She stretched her pale, bare arms in an arc, trying to loosen the tension that throbbed in her upper-back. Unfamiliar vegetation thrived around her, filling the air with a whistling sound that made her uneasy. Despite the heat that the fear lurking within her generated, Ella shivered at the touch of a freezing yet soggy breeze. Her clothes were in tatters, reflecting the disorganization of her mind. There was just enough fabric to cover from below her collar bone to above her knees. She pulled the soft fabric close to her skin, curling into a ball to protect herself from the ethereal coldness. Ella watched as her toes turned to a sickly bluish-white hue, along with her fingers and nose. She stood up, running around in a vain attempt to warm her body. She only felt colder as the arctic-like air graced her skin. With a tired sigh, Ella pulled the fabric over her shoulders, and began working her way through the dense foliage. Realization hit, that she would most likely die in this repulsively bitter and alien terrain-- if not from pneumonia, then from being eaten by an extraterrestrial species. After hours, it appeared as though she were merely walking in circles; everything looked the same, dark and intimidating. Waves of exhaustion broke her down, where she once again folded herself into a pile of fragile skin and bones, preparing to die.