Frozen Chemicals

Ice Skating

       I am a creature of habit, I didn't used to be. I used to be fun. Spontaneous. Again, that was me before the crash. Apparently, I hit my head pretty bad off of my window, they thought they would have to bury a full family. I wasn’t supposed to pull through. That was my first time being on the brink of death, and I was the idiot to survive. I have my patterns: Wake up, get dressed, curl back up under the covers for two snoozes, go downstairs and get out a bagel and energy drink. Toast the bagel on the lightest setting and then smother it in butter. During the week, I go to school from there. But on weekends, the old me starts to show through. But so does the new me.  I grew up in Western New York, but the guys lived in Jersey, so I had to move. The great thing is though, that we live closer to woods then my old house used to be so I have my secret places. Like my pond, I don’t think anybody else has known about it for years, except me.

        After my breakfast, I decide to go outside into the woods. To my pond, my secret place. I look and see that it’s around ten still and early. When I woke up the temp was under 10, but now it’s climbing steadily close to 32. But it’s been in the negatives all week, so this sudden heat flux shouldn’t make too much of a differece. I hope.  Just looking out the window, I’m already anticipating how nice it will to go ice skate in my place. Since grades were due before last night, the guys procrastinated and freaked themselves out to oblivion and are still asleep, dead to the world. I know it’s not a good idea to go out by myself without them knowing, but they have a map I made for them in the off chance of an emergency. I check the temp again, and it’s a solid 30 degrees.  The snow began to fall last month and this being the seventh day in a row I've woken up with the weather under 10 degrees, I'm pretty sure the pond should be safe.

       I ponytail my long black hair and stare into my own almost neon green eyes. I head back upstairs and get dressed to go out.  I throw on my black turtleneck and black skinny jeans. Before going back downstairs, I grab my skates and slide down the banister.  I’m stuffy I know, but I still have a few fun quirks left. Every time I slide downt eh banister it reminds me of the first time I did it. I fell, and broke my arm. When the guys see my do it, they still yell in mock anger and remind me of the break, but it’s not like it’s that hard for me. For peep’s sake, I almost broke my neck rolling over in bed last year. I leave a note: “Gone Ice Skating! You know where the map is in the very UNLIKELY chance that you MIGHT need it! I’ll be back for lunch! -Sig”  I run outside into the cold New Jersey air through our back door, then through the gate separating our back yard and the small woods behind, the woods with my place.

After my small hike to the pond, I stand at the edge and take in just how amazingly beautiful it is here. I take a deep breath to take in the air. As I put my skates, a slight breeze picks up and gently brushes my nose and the small tendril of hair that have fallen from my ponytail.. The pond is bumpy and rough but it’s all I’ve ever known it to be. The flaws add to it’s beauty, perfection would detract from that. You can't expect perfect ice like at the rinks, but that’s why I love it.. After an hour I come across a bump that was bigger than I thought. When I hit it, I crash down on my side and hear the scariest noise I think there is to hear.

The ice cracking.

"Shit. shit. Shit!" I slowly slip my skates off and shove them to the solid ground and try to stand up the best I can. I slowly inch away from the center, until my foot slips again and I almost fall. When I land, nothing happens I start laughing because I'm shocked I didn't go through. I know there's no way I can move from here. I slide my phone out of my pocket and text both Al and Ed our emergency message. "911. Cracked ice." I don’t even wait to see the message send, I  chuck my phone to my skates to they’ll know it’s me here and not some other skater. I should’ve waited until the next cold wave, but I didn’t and now I’m going to fall through the ice. The cracks are going to shatter any minute, and I’m scared. No, I’m terrified. As the cracks deepen, the wind picks up more than it has all winter. And in those few seconds I’m on the ice alone, petrified, it’s almost as though years pass. A few seconds is all it really took, and I’m in the water, drowning.