The pin pricks my skin, I feel nothing.
Rushing wind fly's by my face as I zoom down the snow covered hill. I can feel my belly getting nervous as the large portion of the hill comes up. whoosh I fly by my sister and leave her trailing in my snow. I keep on soaring and soaring until I'm completely out of the woods. I'm still flying right down through all the way onto the open field of white snow. When my sled finally comes to a halt, I'm exasperated and excited to start my trek back to the top to begin it all over again. As soon as I stand up I felt a sheer sense of pain and nervousness flood my body. I realized where I was standing, and I was paralyzed.
I couldn't feel anything except for the cold. All my mind was saying over and over was just cold. I could feel myself gasping and reaching. All I could hold onto were chunks of ice that kept breaking and separating. This is it, this is how I'm going to die. I was gasping for air every time I surfaced preparing myself for the next plunge under as my snow outfit started to fill with water. My body felt so heavy like I was carrying a cement block around my waste. I could feel my arms and legs starting to tire and figured I should just resist the fight and let myself go. I had no energy to keep moving, my ski pants were compacted and soaked with water they felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. The cold water had paralyzed my body. Just when I shut my eyes and let go of the ice scattered around my head, I felt a hand grab me by my hair.
Stopping there, teasing like that...definitely a distancing technique. Hard to know whether I admire your courage in stopping there or am annoyed I don't get to know the ending of the story, whose hand, etc.
ReplyDeleteBoth, I guess! That's a week 10 reaction!
The best part for me was the description of the water weighting the clothes. That struck me as something simple but unforgettable, and as someone who waded into a pond after a dog who had gone under the ice and who also belly-crawled off crackling ice I stupidly skated onto, I could appreciate the near-death and very cold moment you describe.