The Blizzard

Chapter 4

All that snow shot a stab of freezing cold through my fur. The shock squeezed a scream out of me. I burst of the snow and got as far away from the cold as possible, I threw off my backpack, shaking the cold off. By then the snow had melted and soaked me to the bone. I clawed at my chest, my ticker was just about ready to explode. I dropped onto the ground and gasped wheezing breaths, moaning with grief. When I calmed down, I sat up and got a look at the snow that tried to trap me. The snow had covered my fire, jets of steam shot out through the mound as the snow melted up the heat.. The entrance was sealed in, leaving only gaps around the edges. I panted for a moment, puzzled. Then I snickered, before breaking in all out laughter.

I should've known about the snow piling on top of my burrow, but I wasn't paying attention. The wind was hitting the face of the hill, forcing all that snow up. That snow stuck to the trees, which formed a mound above my shelter. The heat kept the mound of snow in check until it formed a hanging cliff. It soon became too heavy and decided to drop by and say hello. I laughed for what felt like forever, then my voice coughed.

I swore at Arceus for the one hundredth time.

With my source of heat gone, I got out my tablet, turned it on again, and send a message to EVERYBODY: "HELP! I'M BURIED ALIVE! FIRE IS OUT, I'M FUCKED!"

. . .

Within hours, I saw my rescuers came digging for me. I never felt so happy to see people wearing bright orange coats emerging through the whiteout of the blizzard. Of course Mark was one of the rescuers, he came in and wrapped me up in a warm blanket before pulling me out of my pussy hole. I was freezing, numb, and lacking color. I thanked him in pokémon speech as they strapped me on board a snowmobile and drove me back home. There, Mark took delivery of giving me a nice hot bath in the kitchen sink, gave me hot cocoa, and sat me by the fire. Polly, my Dixierat family members, and my PRA friends all came in for a group hug. After I finished my hot cocoa, I asked Mark to carry me back to my bed, where Polly and Ray, my rikachu grandson, hopped in to keep me warm.

When the storm was over, over three dozen or so people knew what happened. FNN didn't report it on the TV, radio, or on their online website. I took a whole week off from work. The storm broke me, all because of a damn pile of snow.

A week later I was back at work in my teaching job. I didn't say to anyone why I was away, just that I didn't wanna talk about it. Carrie, a furry rikachu of mine, was willing to enforce that rule for me. After a few days, I felt guilty about it all and started talking to my students in private about it. They gave me words of encouragement, some even hugged me. I let them hold me, I was that depressed. From that point on, I swear I would never go out into the wilderness the moment it became slightly cold until I get warm weather. Once it was warm again, I went back out into the Frontier Zone and built a better burrow. This time I made a hut around the entrance, dug a better firepit, and chopped up more than enough firewood than I would ever need. I even buried a chest filled with fatwood, all sealed up in ziplock plastic bags. I left my tablet at home for most of the year, until Mark pressured me to bring it with me again. It took me six to eight months for me to recover, but at least I lived.

Ugh, I hate my fucking life.