Trapped

A beautiful  day up at Big White Ski Resort. The sun is blazing like a dragon’s breath right on the top of my reflective goggles. Ten new centimeters of powder and I  am shredding it up on the Falcon Chair. Just about finished  my fifth run  as I jump on the speeding chair.  Once I get on the chair I hear a noise that is worse than when my mean teacher drags her disgusting long fake nails on the smooth  chalk  board as she asks me why I am in after school detention.  Even though this chair is more than twenty years old you would think that they could fix it up a little.  Suddenly the cold heavy bar falls from over top off me,crushing my fingers between the stiff seat and smashing the back of my head. (as hard as when my mother beats me with the old wooden spoon.)  I daze off and when I finally open my eyes I am 3 feet away from the  chair landing. I rapidly shoot up the mean bar with my crippled hand that is hurting more than ever now. I scoot off the rickety old chair to find the closest bench.  I sit down and I am strangely seeing two of every thing. I must be looking petty stupid when  an old man comes up to me and asks  curiously.

“Are you okay there son? You look a little shaken up.”

“Um I think so” I say with question. I look back up to find him nowhere in site.  Weird I think, I swear he was  there. Trying to recover I decide to go back to the cabin. As I attempt to stand up  my legs  just collapse and I fall right back down to the wooden bench.  I try again. I grab my poles and try to  use them to pull myself  up putting  as much pressure as I can on my right hand and less on my left because it still hurts a bunch.  I finally manage to stand up and slide carefully to the run leading down to the cabin.

A long steep mogal run which I am really not in the mood for. But how else will I get home?  I start sliding down the tricky terrain.  Three quarters down and my head is pounding, feeling worse than a construction worker hammering away on a rusty old nail that is bent all the way sideways until it breaks.

Then I remember the short cut through the tight trees, across the frozen creek then onto the road and if I have to I will walk along the lonely road.There is the abandon path I think to myself.  I  am now skiing with a little confidence because I actually think I will make it home believe it or not.  I get in the tight trees. I seem not to remember how tight these trees were I think as I am ducking and dodging falling trees and low branches.  I am getting whipped across the face with pine tasting branches. There is sticky sap all over my shiny goggles that is making it very hard to see the incoming branches.  Suddenly I swerve  right attempting to get out out of  the way of a rock but  find a high branch. My brain rocks as hard as if Clay Mathews had I full sprint and tackled me  to the hard ground.

I fall down I am so  disoriented.  I am struggling to get back to my feet. I fall again but this time I  back head first into a treewell. I struggle, but  find my self falling deeper and deeper into the treacherous sinking snow.  I now am horizontal and if you were to look at me from above all you would see is part of my  blue helmet. I suddenly remember my cell phone in the very bottom pocket. I reach down feeling my way.  My hand hits a fallen branch and I whip it back  in pain. “Ouch I yell” My hand is so injured I can  only move my pinky finger. I try with my other hand but it is impossible with 50 pounds off snow crushing on me.  I look down at my season pass hoping there is something I can use to contact someone. Then I see a bright orange top of something connected to my green ski pants.  I reach down with my good hand to grab it.  I  unclasp the safety attachment and pick up the object and wipe the snow and notice the sticker on the side that says ‘Blow In case of Emergency’. A whistle. “Yahoo” I scream in relief.

I start wondering if I will have to stay the night or not. I remember in science class that you can live 3 days without water. Although on Man vs Wild I saw that he got about 250 milliliters of water from one liter of snow. Although I do have a lot of snow and if I need to I will eat all the snow I can.

I start packing the snow around my body with my good hand of course. Then I brush all  the snow of my weak and cripple body. I reach down into my pocket to retrieve my thin neck warmer.  Quickly I slip off my helmet and slide the neck warmer on to my  cold head and rapidly put my helmet back on. I start making a snow barrier  between me and the tree. I’m afraid I could fall deeper into the tree well.

Thank god it is only about minus one degrees or else I would already be frozen solid.  I pull my aching body into a sitting position. My head is only 3 inches from the top of the snow, I start to realize that not many people ski here much because I do not see any ski tracks or snowboard tracks nearby.  It is getting dark outside.   This Is defiantly not going to be my best sleep in my life.

When I woke up it was about 8:00.  I was freezing cold and  my legs were as stiff as  pencils. I hear hoots and yahoos from skiers on the nearest run. They are not too far away.  I quickly grab the whistle from my spot on the tree and blow as hard as I can  again and again.  Suddenly I hear a yell of concern asking “Is someone there? Are you okay?”

“I am here, I am here, come, come!” I scream from the top off my lungs.

“Where are you? We will come.” the voice shouts back. I look around, where am I, I think?  Then I see the towering old tree with no pine needles.

“In a well, beside the old tall needle less tree” I bellow out. I grab my whistle and start blowing with my eyes closed praying they will find me soon. I finally have to stop when they grab my arms and pull me up from the deep trench.  I open my eyes to see one older man around his 50’s with a gray trimmed beard and blue eyes that matched his lighter blue.  Behind him there was a young man. They shove a canteen of cold,clear icy water into my dry parched mouth.

“What is your name boy?” the man asks me.

“James Reed I was trying to get to my cabin ”  I shove out of my mouth.

I could already here the mans son dialing the ski Patrol.   Allmost In an istand thy were raping my injured and in some kind of rap that does not le me move my hand at all. The ski patrol ask me to take some kind off pill, I dont know what it is but seems like they know what there at are doing so I dont rafuse. Then in allmost five minits I was past out cold.

When I woke up I was in a hostibal bed with my hole family there beside me. How glad was I to see them. The had my hans and half off my arm in an hard cast. My Mom told me that every thing was going to be okay. Then asked what happend and I had to tell them every thing of course.