Snowboarding Out of Bounds
(This was written for English class in high school about 2 years ago. We were supposed to write an essay on a given topic, "Snowboarding Out of Bounds," but I decided to write a story instead. Needless to say, the teacher was not amused, and she was the only one in the entire class that wasn't.)
My mother always told me never to go out of bounds, but I never knew why.
As I approached the side of the slope, I checked my bindings, ignored the warning sign, and slid off the edge. After performing several flips, I landed flawlessly on the snow below. There was no way of getting back up, so I continued down the mountain.
Through a forest of fresh pines, a clearing with birds soaring overhead, and around a frozen waterfall, I admired the beauty of the mountain less-travelled. I did not know why I should never go out of bounds. It seemed like a utopia. It was what dreams were made of.
And a dream was all that it was.
I woke up tangled in a net, dangling several metres above the ground. The birds flew freely, mocking my bondage. I took my snowboard, stuck it between my teeth, and ground it until it was as sharp as a knife. With steady motions, I aggressively cut open the net with my snowboard-knife, forgetting that I was several metres off the ground. I landed with a thump and looked up at the towering trees, their branches pointed at me, laughing. I got up, found my snowboard broken, and began walking.
It was mid-day, and I was hungry. I looked for the sandwich I had packed, but it must have dropped out of my jacket. Glancing around, I found a bush dotted with juicy berries. While I was deciding whether or not they were poisonous, the berries shook vigorously, as if to warn me of something.
Something hit me on the back of the head.
I woke up tangled in a net, dangling several metres above the ground. I looked for the birds to mock me, but there were none to be found. Quickly analysing my situation, I realized that I was inside a cave. A puddle on the floor rippled, and the sound of giant footsteps closed in.
From a dark corner, a revolting ogre emerged, brandishing a butcher knife and yelling, “AAAHHH! FRESH MEAT!”
Screaming like a little girl, I admitted, “Mommy, you were right, I should’ve never gone out of bounds!”
The ogre took off its mask and said, “I told you so.”
My mother always told me never to go out of bounds, but I never knew why.
As I approached the side of the slope, I checked my bindings, ignored the warning sign, and slid off the edge. After performing several flips, I landed flawlessly on the snow below. There was no way of getting back up, so I continued down the mountain.
Through a forest of fresh pines, a clearing with birds soaring overhead, and around a frozen waterfall, I admired the beauty of the mountain less-travelled. I did not know why I should never go out of bounds. It seemed like a utopia. It was what dreams were made of.
And a dream was all that it was.
I woke up tangled in a net, dangling several metres above the ground. The birds flew freely, mocking my bondage. I took my snowboard, stuck it between my teeth, and ground it until it was as sharp as a knife. With steady motions, I aggressively cut open the net with my snowboard-knife, forgetting that I was several metres off the ground. I landed with a thump and looked up at the towering trees, their branches pointed at me, laughing. I got up, found my snowboard broken, and began walking.
It was mid-day, and I was hungry. I looked for the sandwich I had packed, but it must have dropped out of my jacket. Glancing around, I found a bush dotted with juicy berries. While I was deciding whether or not they were poisonous, the berries shook vigorously, as if to warn me of something.
Something hit me on the back of the head.
I woke up tangled in a net, dangling several metres above the ground. I looked for the birds to mock me, but there were none to be found. Quickly analysing my situation, I realized that I was inside a cave. A puddle on the floor rippled, and the sound of giant footsteps closed in.
From a dark corner, a revolting ogre emerged, brandishing a butcher knife and yelling, “AAAHHH! FRESH MEAT!”
Screaming like a little girl, I admitted, “Mommy, you were right, I should’ve never gone out of bounds!”
The ogre took off its mask and said, “I told you so.”
Comments
/brag