Personal Narrative-Lying With The Snow

The icy cold snow brushed against the bottom of my board. My hand, gloveless, shivering in the 23 degrees outside. I lean on my heels and turn around the towering tree standing in my way. I see it. I see my glove. Sitting there, brushed in snow, waiting for my chilled hand to finally reunite with iced glove. I begin to speed up, no longer able to bare my naked hand. A smile creeps upon my face as I imagine the warmth I am about to endure, but that soon fades. I begin to fall, even faster than I was gliding down the mountain. Falling face first, I bring my arm up to stop my face from the collision with the snow. I scream. I yelp. I cry. Lying with my stomach to the snow, I call for my father just behind me. He rides up next to me and sits
I am strapped down by two long black belts wrapped around my waist and the stretcher. The thick yellow sheet covers me from the falling snow. It’s bumpy, really bumpy. I am almost glad I fell because it seems very difficult to get down the end of this mountain, or at least that's what the driver makes it feel like. Although the bumps were fun to begin with, they begin to ache on my shoulder. With it not being supported, I used every muscle I had to keep it in place. In the next hour, I went from a snowmobile to the back of a van with another hurt kid. He as well had fallen, but he had hurt his knee
The doctors gave me a sling to put my arm in and some medicine to help with the pain. The pill turned out to have a medicine I was allergic to and made me very sick when I took it, but that's a story for another time. The next day my mom sat me on the couch in front of the television, and they left to snowboard, which I gave them permission to do. Alone at the hotel, I was very gloomy. I was alone and there was snow outside. Living in Houston, we didn’t get a lot of the powdery, light, soft, icy rain that fell from the sky, and I was missing out. The next day was the same, boring and uneventful. By that time, I was depressed and bored beyond imaginable. I was beginning to think it was a waste of a vacation, and I could be doing so much more with my time, so I decided to change that.
I went out with my snowboard, in my sling, and put on my ski clothes. This time, I had both gloves and was very careful. Around 30 feet from our hotel was the middle of a ski run. I sat down, clipped my boots into my board, and stood up. I took a deep breath in and leaned forward. Immediately, my butt hits the icy cold ground. I was riding in fear, and I knew that wouldn’t end well, so I decided to climb back up. Luckily, my father happens to be on that exact run, and he helps me get out of the way and back up. Although he was upset that I tried to snowboard, he was sympathetic towards