Jedd: A Short Story

Decent Essays
At the time, I had known Jedd 5 years. He was my best friend. Perhaps it was strange but I considered him more of a brother to me than my actual sibling. We had a form of familiarity that you only see in movies. A real “Bridge to Terabithia” type of bond, filled with imaginary fairies and dreams of becoming dolphin trainers. He had bleach blonde hair and clear green eyes that reminded me of the Pacific Ocean. He was also side-splittingly funny, in a “ third grade” sort of way. Naturally, I adored him. Having recently joined a new ski team at the age of 8, I was unfamiliar with the mountain. So when Jedd and I first started to venture off on our own, I was completely dependent on his navigational skills. I remember one day in March, we took…show more content…
“What do you mean we’re lost? You said you knew where we were going!” “Well I was wrong. Now we are going to have to live out here.” He clicked out of this skis and stood to inspect our surroundings. It was a clear Sunday afternoon, and the mountains were sprinkled with a fresh dusting of powder. The sun’s rays reflected off the snow, making it sparkle like tiny crystals. It was beautiful. The evergreens above cast a shadow that shaded us from the glare. Jedd absently strolled over the snow bank and sat. Tilting his head to the side he said with a shrug. “There’s no way back. We are stuck here forever.” Being the gullible and perhaps overemotional child that I was. I immediately began to panic. “Please Jedd, I’m scared! I want to go…show more content…
I began to sweat and I remember the feeling of my clammy hair sticking against my helmet. I looked at Jedd for any sign of distress. He remained picturesque, his only shift in his expression was a hint of distaste, perhaps at my blotchy red cheeks. We stayed like that for a long time. I quietly begged to be brought back, but he kept repeating that he couldn’t recall the route. Then just as my sobbing began to slow, he rose up from his makeshift throne. “Fine! We can go back, just calm down. Stop sobbing!” Just like that, he stepped back into skis and skated to the one of the signs. He lifted his chin with a smirk before dropping down the little ledge towards the left. My brain was pounding dully in my skull and my skin felt tight from the dried tears. I didn’t really grasp what had happened. So I simply ignored the confusion that was clouding me, mostly due to embarrassment. Crying was for babies after all. After wiping my foggy goggle lens, I rushed to catch up to my
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