My only option was to get out of the car into the blind of the storm, run back to the trunk and hopefully retrieve the kit with no guarantee that it was actually there. I kept telling myself not to do it, but I could also feel my entire body start to shiver now. I didn’t have a choice.

I feared for a moment that someone was actually trying to hold the door shut when I tried to open the car door because it wouldn’t budge. The scary truth was the combination of the wind and the fast freeze of the pounding storm had briefly iced the door shut. However, after a few moments of me exerting all the strength I had in my body, I was able to get it to crack open.

Trying to be as covert as possible, I didn’t open the door all the way, instead slipped out the little crack and took off around the car with tentative feet, trying not to slip on the ice.

The snow was pounding so hard I felt like I had a piano on my back in the short amount of time it took me to run around to the trunk. The wind was so brutal I felt like I could be swept up and sent out into the sky at any moment at the same time. But I reached the trunk.

My heart stopped once the trunk popped open and I laid my eyes on the red plastic of the toolbox of a survival kit my dad had given me for Christmas. I thanked my lucky stars, picked it up and took back off, away from the trunk and towards the car door.