literature

To Melt Ice- For RJL7983

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Literature Text

It's early morning, the sun just barely revealing its light above the treetops. You step outside, breath misting in the cold, watching the dark blue sky fade to its daylight shade. Smiling at the familiar sight, you see the half moon making an appearance still. A perfect start to winter break. Pulling on your 'snow chains for shoes', the fifteen minute trek begins.
Arriving at your sanctuary pleasantly warm and somewhat sweaty, off come the snow-boots, revealing white woolen socks with polka dots. You don a well-worn pair of skates and step onto the iced-over pond. Rearranging the camera strap around your neck, you begin to move.
"Aaah," you think to yourself, as the newborn calf feeling in your legs dissipate, "this is bliss."

There's nothing but you and the ice, the feeling in your legs as you move, hands clasped around your camera, holding it tight. That camera contains many memories for you, it's captured all things, both good and bad. Eventually, you reach the spot you're searching for.
The oak tree is outlined with frost now, and perhaps a foot taller than that time so many years ago. Half is shimmering, the other still covered in shadows. As you raise the lens, a memory comes to mind.

Your brother's best friend is daring you. Merely seven and already tenacious, you make it to the first and second branches, but on the third, you slip. The best friend, Braedon, mocks you as you run home to Mom. He doesn't know you're only going to get a plaster, and maybe cry just a little. Mom bucks up your chin, and demands to know if you're going to let a mere tree beat you. You shake your head, determined now, to defeat the tree.
For three weeks, you go higher and higher, each level, each new branch, demanding a scrape, cut, or bruise before allowing you to continue. He appears at the fourth-week mark in the midst of another session. You're so high up, nearly eleven feet and still going strong, you don't hear his first greeting. Or his fifth. On his sixth, he'd probably started after you. This is guess work, as you were so focused on finding the next branch, next foothold, to bring you up higher to the next handhold. Now fourteen feet up, just four more to go, you finally pause, panting as you stand on a sturdy branch.
"HEY!" The shout from below startles you. You cling to the trunk, and peer down, surprised to see him just six feet below. New determination enters your eyes, and your rest is now over. Panting hard, sweat dripping down as the summer sun beats down on your back, you see only branches until you poke your head up and see the world. He catches up a few minutes later, and says again, subdued this time, "Hey."
You don't reply, stunned by how small you are. In front of you are many houses, then further off, you see buildings, skyscrapers glinting, and you know instinctively that the shiny creature called a 'city' would swallow a child like you whole. You turn your head, ignoring Braedon though he stands close to you, and see the forest, a green city expanding until the horizon.
"It's really big, isn't it?"
You're startled at the sound of his voice, glancing around in the wrong directions. He places a large hand on the top of your head, and turns it until you face him. Slowly, he repeats his question. "It's really BIG, isn't it?"
You nod your head, suddenly shy because of how close he is. The shyness evaporates as he grins down at you and says, "Race you down!"
"No fair, head start!" Laughing, the both of you climb down, reaching the bottom within seconds of each other.


You smile, shaking your head slightly. He still holds that win over your head to this day, ten years later. You notice that the tree is no longer half in light, half in shadows, and skate over to a different position before taking a photo. Legs feeling a bit tired from standing on the spindly skates, you spot a log beside the tree. You skate over, stumble a bit as you walk across the snow, skates sinking with every step. Sitting down, you see the lake shining brilliantly. As you fiddle with the lens so the brightness doesn't hurt the eyes, but still comes through, another memory comes to mind.

Summer again, you're now ten. It's your birthday, and the picnic table across the lake is filled with cake, chips, and pizza. Everyone is taking turns swinging on the vine to jump into the lake. You climb out soaking wet to see your best friend Diana still dry, sitting hesitantly near the table. You walk until you're standing right in front of her and then shake your head, her squeals of laughter filling your ears as water drops swirl around you. Mom scolds you for getting the food a little wet, and you and Diana stifle giggles when she turns around.
"Are you okay just sitting here?" You ask, worrying about the place you chose.
"I'm fine watching everyone get wet. It's not your fault I broke my leg just a week before your party. No, no, you don't have to stay with me!" She pushes your shoulder as you sit beside her.
Grinning, you reply, "I'm good here. You need to protect me from my brother and his friend, so they don't toss me in. Again."
You spend the hours of the party talking with Diana as the rest of your friends splash each other, shrieks of laughter the background of the conversation.
A shadow falls across you, and you turn your head to look up at Braedon.
"What is i- eeek, stop that!" You and Diana both laugh as he shakes his head like a dog just as you did earlier.
"Come back to the water, we're seeing how long your brother can hold his breath for! He's versing Serina." Serina is in the swim team, and you know your brother has no chance. But he grabs your arm anyways and tows you across the grass and sand.
"Diana! I've been captured! Call for help, I'm being kidnapped!"
"Take care of her for me Brae!" She calls back, the traitor.
As the party ends and everyone leaves, you feel really happy. Everyone enjoyed themselves, and when Braedon dragged you away from Diana, Trisha took your place, and then Serina took hers, and even your brother stayed with Diana for half an hour. All in all, it was a splendid day, and another good memory.


As you hear familiar clicks as the camera takes a shot, you hear shouts from across the lake. Everyone's here, and helping each other put on their skates. You wave back, and start across to the beginning of another good memory.
MY FIRST REQUEST! :iconlawooplz::icondummydanceplz: I hope you enjoy it RJL7983 =)
© 2012 - 2024 Contradictory55
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autumnlit's avatar
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star: Vision
:star::star::star::star::star: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Impact

"It's early morning, the sun just barely revealing its light above the treetops. You step outside, breath misting in the cold, watching the dark blue sky fade to its daylight shade." - HOOKED

"fade to it's daylight SHADE." - DOUBLE HOOKED

P.S. I miss ice skating terribley.

Your transition into memories was poetically, realistically, brilliant. Just like a photograph.

I can feel the exact feeling of being out on the ice, holding the camera, spirited away into another memory like flipping through an old family photo album, and inside that album, realer still, as the memories are painted perfectly-as if they were my own.

This was beautifully written feel-good short story. I LOVED IT.

Extremely well executed. I kept thinking this story was going to turn somewhere else though, but I am happy that it didn't. In a sense it didn't actually end, which is interesting how you left the reader this way. I did feel like there could have been something more at the end that could have tied it more to the beginning, maybe re-mentioning Braedon making an appearance and referencing the tree.

A very lovely read! Thank you for sharing!