Snow-Personal Narrative

During this time, I felt alone. My parents were at the hospital a lot. I felt I could not trust anyone. I had no one to share my secrets with. I began to hide my feelings. I plastered a fake smile on my face and pretended everything was going to be okay. I knew it was not going to be okay. If Kaylee got her heart transplant, the family would have to get rid of our cat, Maggie. If Kaylee did not get a heart in time, she would die.

Snow skiing. The first day learning to ski is rough for almost anyone you ask. The day before my first ski trip, I could not help but wonder. Was I going to fall on my butt? Would I fall flat on my face? Would I make a fool out of myself? These were all questions that I knew I would soon get answers to. I had built up such intense feelings of nervousness and excitement that I could hardly tell the difference. All I wanted was to make it out alive.

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” When I knew I was l alone I ran all over town looking for the source of the snow. I finally found it at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. I waited a couple of seconds before saying something but before I could, someone spoke.

On a Tuesday night of my sophomore year, two weeks before the state tournament, we played Heritage Hills. On the mound, battling for every out, I attempted to keep the game tied. The count was two and one with two outs in the bottom of the fourth. I stepped up, wound up, and pitched the ball for the fiftieth time. Except this time the ball came flying right back towards me.

"Do you ever see yourself, fantasizing, about snow?" She asked, unaware of the ignorance, that seemed to protrude, across her face. "We live in Texas, obviously." I snickered, as she shot me a look of annoyance, "I know." She began as she rolled her eyes, "To better explain it, have you forgotten the feeling of snow, not your mind, but your body, the feeling of it laying in your hands."

The smell of popcorn filled the spring air. I was running as fast as I could, there was no stopping me. The pitcher threw the baseball to second base as I started to race to home base. Voices of cheering and screaming of excitement filled my ears, motivating me to run faster. I stared at the catcher with confidence in my eyes, seeing his glove in the air, ready to catch the ball. He was too late, my foot touched the bag before it reached his glove. My best friend Olivia on the team ran over to me and gave me a hard high five. The rest of my team tackled me with joy. Olivia and I are the only girls on the team yet we are some of the best players they have. As we said good game to the other team, a feeling of being watched struck me. I turned my head to see a

“Guess what!” said my mom “Levi can come over to tomorrow.” I imagined what it would be like out there. It was up to my waist. Dad did want me to go outside so I guessed I'd please him. Monday morning I woke up and ran downstairs. It was going to be awesome out in the snow. But then dad told me something that ruined my day, I would be shoveling the alley until it was clear.

One morning, I woke up in my room, and pulled up the shades to see the ground covered in several blankets of snow from a snowstorm. I went downstairs, and made my breakfast, a typical bowl of cereal with orange juice and some toast. Before the meal, the length of this storm was my particular interest at the moment, so I looked up the weather. The outlook did not look too convincing to me, so I continued to eat my breakfast that seemingly felt like forever, due to my desire in the length of the storm. I consumed the last bits of toast that were left, and looked outside once again only to see what I saw the first time, thick layers of snow.

Snow. It's one of those perils that every trucker finds him or herself in from time to time. It really isn't the end of the world unless of course one happens to be in an area where people aren't accustomed to it. Luckily for me, I was in Portland. Oh, sure. Every town has their idiots who can't drive on dry road, let alone slick ones. But for the most part, Portland Oregon isn't a bad place to drive through during a snow storm.

Walking outside the sun beamed down on me, the skin on my shoulders stinging. I knew I should’ve been in pain but at that precise moment I felt empty and emotionless. Once I knew I was calm enough to go back inside I walked inside and went straight to my bedroom. Once I was out of sight from my sister broke down and sobbed. I muffled my cries in my silk covered pillows. The coldness of the pillow relaxed my face.

One day I was just riding my scooter and my brother and I were playing cops and robbers and he always made me be the cop and I was sick and tired of it. So I tried to catch up to him and I was so close but then there was a rock and I tripped on it and I landed on my arm. It hurt so bad I was crying really loud and Brody ( my older brother ), said I was fine. My dad came out because he heard me crying and helped me up. When we got back home my mom got a water bottle from inside our house, but it wasn’t cold because we were just building our house and then later that night, like at 7:30 she took me to the hospital and I got my soft cast on.

This poem reminded me of the stories that my parents tell me of their experiences of snow, as I have never seen snow. My mother grew up in Michigan with her seven siblings and she has told me all about what it was like waking up to the thick layer of fresh snow encasing everything and how it was the children’s job to clear the drive and walk way before school. She always complains how she ended up being to one who did most of the work as her siblings tended to play around in the snow more than actually shoveling it. She moved to Florida when she was seventeen and sternly claims that she does not miss the snow one bit. My father, on the other hand, has always hated snow with a passion. He grew up moving around from state to state and he dreaded

The season of winter has begun. The sky was dark and the ground was bright. During this time of the season, we usually stay home and some people go out for hunting. When I woke up on the first day of winter morning I wore my skirt and cape that was made out of yellow cedar bark to keep myself warm. Afterward, I helped my mom prepare food for breakfast that was served on wooden platters and trays. The food we had for breakfast was dry fish that were caught from summer. After breakfast, I mostly spent the day making and repairing tools that will be used for the

They played some other ones too I think, but the concert started at 10:30 pm because it was the Snow Show, so I don't remember some. The most surprising thing to me was that Brendon's voice when he talks in real life is way lower than I expected, but they had fun and we had fun. By we I mean my Dad (who dances like a bird) because he wanted to see the band before them (Atlas Genius), so he stayed for Panic! and I also really didn't have anyone to go with because the people I would want to go with enjoy more mainstream music like One Direction.

As I watched my families car pull out of my driveway, I felt like a piece of me was leaving as well. My eyes, feeling like a dam that had just burst open, could hardly open enough to gaze at my family waving goodbye. The rather short street seemed to stretch on forever as I watched the bright lights of the car slowly disappear, wishing they could just stop and never leave my sight. Despite my immense sadness, I saw the beautiful sunrise painting the sky with brilliant shades of orange and pink, reminding me that everything would be ok.