Cold

Author’s Note: I wrote this as a creative piece, for an assignment. It was a requirement to be creative, so I tried to show my creativity and word choice in this piece. I also demonstrated my knowledge of figurative language in this piece.

My ears were pounding, I could feel my adrenaline surging as he took eerily, slow steps towards me. In one swift movement he reached out and bashed my head full force into the counter. Like a deer in the headlights I stood there shocked for a moment. Then I felt the warm flow of blood begin to slither down my face and it started  to pour into my eyes. There was something different about how he was acting today, it almost felt like he was preparing for some horrible new punishment he had up his sleeve. I couldn’t calm down while this crazy monster had such a horrifyingly happy look in his eyes as he watched me lay there with blood running from my head. Slowly, my vision started to blur and all I wanted to do was sleep.

The slam of the door woke me from my deep sleep. I could feel the hard jaggedness of the ground pushing into my back. Unsure of where I was I slowly began to sit up, but the throbbing of my head kept me from reaching a full sitting up position. With a clump my body slammed itself right back into the cold hard ground. I laid there for a while before I regained the strength to try and pull myself back up again. Successfully, I managed to pull myself up to an upright position. With slow, smooth movements, careful not to send a sharp shooting pain through my head, I found myself in a enclosed shed. I kept thinking to myself, where am I, and why am I here?

Once I gained all the power I could, I pushed through the sickening pain in my right temple where that horrible monster plunged my head into the side of the countertop, I was able to somehow stagger to my feet and cling to the walls to keep myself from toppling right over like a baby taking its first steps. The worst part about this whole thing is that that terribly cruel person who found it necessary to cause me pain and humiliation day after day was my own father. How sick and twisted is that?

Steadily, I made my way to this blur of a shadow, which I was assuming must be the door to this old shack. It smelled of rotted wood and mold. My mind was crowded with so many thoughts, but there was one in particular that kept racing through my mind. Is this another awful punishment he has decided to torture me with, leaving me in the shed to freeze? As I finally made it to the door I felt around for the handle and when I found it, I gave it a pull but nothing. Once again I pulled on the cold metal handle, but the door didn’t budge.

My heart started pounding. Did he lock me in? It was January and I could see the shed getting darker as the sun began to set. If he left me in here all night I would freeze to death before he would come get me in the morning. That is if he even planned on coming for me at all. I know I must find a way out of here or I’m as good alive, as dead. The crisp air felt as though it was at most 10 degrees.  At the top of the shed I could hear the wind whispering through the boards in the rooftop.

After at least an hour of useless tugging and pounding for help, I couldn’t do a single thing.  I finally gave up and sat curled up on the freezing ground. My consciousness was a blur for a long time. Some points I’d be shaking ferociously on the ground trying to preserve whatever body heat I had left and other times I’d be unconscious laying on the ground.  Suddenly, I woke once more only to find myself whimpering in pain from the frostbite.

I forced myself to stay awake, by sitting up as best I could, worried I wouldn’t wake up the next time I closed my eyes.  After  waiting this long I knew he wasn’t coming back for me, He just left me here to die in the bitter cold of the night. Slowly I laid myself back down to the frosty ground and I felt myself drift away never to wake up again.