White Death

Circa 1990 | Tacoma | Age 12

This very short story is from a 6th grade writing assignment:

Crisp, mid-winter air flowed over her sleek, graceful body. Gliding down her magestic [sic] snowdrifts had always been a tension lifting and fulfilling experience in her eyes. As close as you can get, she once said, to the romantic flight of an eagle. But Natelly Batemam was far from the secluded rolling hills she was so effortlessly glidding [sic] over.

Though she had been sking [sic] for a day and a half strate [sic], she had to escape, driven only by the echos [sic] of fear and mourn[ing] haunting her every thought. Even at her best she couldn’t cut over the bright snow as he could. Though under pressure he split like a dry twig. That was probably why she had made it alive, but alone.

Far in the distance, the rumble of a harmless avalance [sic] cause[d] her to stop. She knew, by the sound, it was far from life-threatening to her. But for a vivid second she was there, his shreaks [sic] of terror rang in her ears and stung her sharp eyes. The agonizing crys [sic] turned to plees [sic] of ‘save yourself we’ll be together again!’ But he was cut off as the merciless white death engulfed him.

She was jolted back to reality when a large branch hit her square in the gut, sending her reeling back, breathless. For a moment she went dead out, then she became conscious of a sharp wind cutting into her thick jacket.

With a start, fear stricken eyes raced, but her predicament would not prevail. It was not till it was too late that it dawned upon her, she was falling.

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