Winter ~ A short story ~ Part One

Instructions

*WARNING* This story involves stressful situations and occurrences involving ice and water. If you feel uncomfortable reading such things, are too young or are not allowed to, don't read this. ================================================== Instructions Use the right arrow key to go forwards and the left arrow key to go backwards. ================================================== Story I step out of my house, into the snow, into the winter. My white coat is almost instantly covered with bright white snowflakes. I look up, at the snowstorm brewing around me. Snow falls on me, on my hands, my boots, my face, reminding me of who I am. Winter. Born twelve years ago, during the deadliest snow storm recorded in Chicago. My mother had barely reached the hospital to deliver me, the snow was that bad. My parents had named me Winter after the storm. It may be just a name, but it has affected me more than people think. White is my color. Winter is my favorite season, with its cold wind and snow. When I go somewhere, there just so happens to be a storm there during my stay as Chicago stays snow-free. I run off my porch and jump into a large pile of fresh white snow. The cold doesn't bother me, even though I only have a light jacket on. It wakes me up, energizes me. I roll over onto my back, wipe the snow off of my face and stare at the white specks falling from the sky. The front door opens. My mother appears in the doorway. "What are you doing, Winter?" she says sternly. "You'll get a cold, dressed like that in this weather. Come in and put a warmer jacket on." I get up from the snow grumpily and stand outside the door while my mother looks for a jacket. "Come on Mom. I never get cold out there," I say. "You do, you just don't feel it," Mom says. "No I don't," I say stubbornly. "Just be quiet and put the coat on," Mom says, sounding irritated. I ignore her and run out in the cold, silencing my mom's protests. I jog to the garage, a fair distance from our house. Once I get there, I take out my keys, find the right one and put it in the garage door lock. As soon as I unlock the door, I fling it open, grab my skates and run to the lake next to my house after locking the door. The crisp wind blows on my face as I put the skates on. I step out onto the lake and glide effortlessly. Skating is as easy for me as breathing is. My dad taught me how to skate as soon as I was able to walk, just like his father taught him and his brother when they were young. The snow has stopped falling so thickly, which is helpful when skating. I lift my leg, extend my arms, lean forward and glide for a few seconds. I then place my foot back down and spin in a circle, standing on the tips of my skates, head held high. I notice my siblings, who apparently woke up early this morning. My older sister, Ariana, in a red jacket, the inside lined with fur. My younger brother, Zack, in his dark blue and black jacket, hands hidden inside of thick gloves. Both hold ice skates as they run over to me. They stop at the edge of the lake to put on their skates before joining me on the ice, my brother wobbling. "Hello," I call out once they are near me. "Hi," my sister, Ariana, calls back as Zack tries not to fall on his face. I smile at his attempt to stay on his feet. Ariana turns around, once she reaches me, looking at Zack. "Why so wobbly?" she asks him. "You were so good last time I saw you." "This ice has a lot of bumps," he replies nervously. "And it looks to me as if it's a bit thin. Are you sure it's safe?" I sigh. Of course it's safe. If it wasn't, we wouldn't all be on the ice. Ariana laughs. "Why so many worries? Just enjoy it!" She smiles gleefully as she starts tearing across the ice. As Zack skates a bit further onto the ice, I hear a gasp. I look in the direction of the sound. Ariana is sitting on the ice, her face telling us that she is in pain. "What happened?" I ask. "I was skating and I tripped and fell. The ice is pretty bumpy. And when I fell, a small crack formed." I frown. Maybe Zack was right. Maybe it is too dangerous to skate on the lake now. "I'm getting off," she says as she stands up, still wincing a bit. "Me too," Zach says. Ariana skates to the edge of the lake and sits down to take off her skates. Zack starts to follow her, but before he goes, he looks back at me. "Are you sure you want to stay?" His voice sounds worried and his forehead is creased. "Just for a few more minutes,"I answer. "Okay." He turns around, head to the edge and takes off his skates, puts on his shoes and heads towards home. I turn around and start to skate again, but this time with no spins, no acrobatics. Just gliding in one straight line, slowly, carefully. I begin to worry. Something feels wrong. (cont.)