Snow Day

• Amy Jochheim , Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

The bustling street was a welcome change from the emptiness of my house. Since my mother died, the house has been quiet, and the absence of her laughter swept through the narrow halls, a constant reminder of my loss. I figured I should get out of the house for a while since my father was nowhere to be found. He was probably at the pub right now, trying to drink my mother out of his mind.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake, sending rocks from the crumbling walls around me flying. I heard piercing screams fill the air, leaving a ringing in my ears. I turned around, looking for the source of the motion, and saw an unforgiving wave of snow and rock speeding toward me. An avalanche. 

I sprinted down the rocky street, my legs moving as fast as they could. Screams, sobs, and cries echoed through the streets as disoriented and distressed individuals called for family and friends that had been buried in the snow. I couldn't concentrate. The snow was catching me, and so I ran faster and faster, but my feet couldn't keep up. I stumbled on a loose rock, and pain shot up my ankle like an electric shot. I didn’t let myself cry out or ask for help; I had to focus all my energy on making it out of this alive.

I could hear the soft rumbling noise of the avalanche getting louder every second. Fear swept through my chest like a raging fire, burning all of my logical thoughts and hopes of survival away. I was going to die.

Despair clouded my mind. Tears streamed down my face, and my vision blurred. Stupid thing to start crying, really, as I tripped and tumbled straight down a steep, rocky hill. Before I could get up, over two hundred kilograms of snow piled over my head, and I couldn’t see anything anymore. So much for surviving.

The word was spinning faster than my brain could process it. My lungs ached for oxygen, but being buried under excruciatingly heavy snow, I couldn't create an air pocket even if I tried. The snow around me seemed to be solidifying, becoming heavier and heavier, slowly but surely crushing me to death.

It's true what they say: "Your life flashes before your eyes as you are dying." I was reminded of the small moments, the ones I would cherish for eternity. Going to the fair and winning a giant stuffed elephant. going skiing for the first time. My first day of school was My mother's warm embrace But there were also bad memories. I scraped my knee after falling from my bike. The bullies that taunted me When my mother was first dignosed. watching my mother's cancer rip the joy and laughter out of her, leaving behind an empty shell of a woman and finally, her death.





I let myself sink further down, strangely at peace, waiting for the reaper to reunite me with my mother.