This short story I wrote when I was in the 10th grade, as an assignment my teacher gave me. I remember she was very impressed, but now that I think about it, she may not have had the highest of expectations from a 16 year old studying math and computer science in a high school where English as a second language wasn’t very popular among the students.
Oh, well. I think it was okay, considering.
The Beginning of The End
With its cold weather, its speedy winds and its icy roads, winter is upon us. I stare numb at the angry trees, hopelessly rocking back and forth, as if trying to get to shelter from the heartless storm. I, myself, remain unmoved, snowflakes blowing into my face like hundreds of little needles poking me at the same time.
The restless city has once more been reduced to silence by the almighty storm, its residents all tucked away, under the protection of their homes. I realize there’s no point in waiting for the bus. My savior, the bus. I finally get the courage to move, so I stand up and leave the frozen bench behind. Not a single soul in sight, not a single sound to be perceived, other than the storm’s endless roar across the city. ‘It’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen,’ exclaims the lady on the radio I just found. The rest is static.
I move on, barely able to move my feet, now frozen under the thick, unforgiving layer of snow. The long line of blurry lights guides me on my way home. What is normally a twenty minutes’ walk now feels like an eternity of sluggish movement onwards. The thought of my warm room, with the chimney lit up, the lights dimmed, the drapes pulled and a hot cup of chocolate are the only things that keep me going. I suddenly realize the lights, my one hope of escaping this raging weather, have disappeared in the distance. I turn around, looking for them as if my life depended on them, but no such luck. I turn left, wandering further into the darkness, my feet begging for warmth and my face completely frozen.
After stopping for a while in the middle of the road, unable to go on, I realize that by some weird coincidence I wound up in front of my apartment building. Having never been so happy to see myself here, I pull myself together and use what little power I have left to crawl into the building. I somehow manage to get to my door, and loudly slam it behind me, relieved. I pull the drapes, wishing for the sun to shine down on me the next time I pull them, I light up the chimney, I dim the lights and I begin to pour myself that hot cup of chocolate I’ve been dying for all day. I tell myself that it’s over. Little do I know that it has just begun.