Three in the morning, pitch black, driving down a bumpy, aged, two-lane highway. Animals dart back and forth, left and right, tires screech, women scream. Suddenly, still, silence.
December 21st. Winter break arrived, it was time for the adventure I had been anticipating, snow skiing. My family hastily packed bags, piled into our car and embarked on an adventure to the marvelous mountains of Ruidoso, New Mexico. We left the safety of our tiny town early so we would arrive in the unknown Ruidoso before nightfall. To add excitement to our trip we stopped in the legendary Roswell, New Mexico, where aliens were presumed to have crashed. Though our stay was not lengthy, it allowed for time outside the confinement of our car. We quickly left Roswell and headed towards our destination at which we arrived promptly.
December 22nd. The room we booked had delightfully warm beds, and the fretful temperatures made them all the more cozy. Just as I had settled into a deep slumber, chilly hands touched my shoulders. Goose bumps ran down my back as my dad attempted to wake me. I glanced at the clock; it was just past one in the morning. As much as I did not want to, I forced myself awake, put on warmer clothes and followed my ecstatic family outside. Then I realized snow had arrived. I raised my hands to the sky as snow fell; step by step I went deeper into the snow exploring the wonderful winter wonderland I had never before seen. I danced around with my sister while the beautiful sparkling drops of ice blanketed the ground. Distracted by the snowfall, I did not notice my devious sister had disappeared until a beaucoup of snowballs pummeled me. I quickly jumped out of the line of fire, gathered ammunition, and retaliated. Finally, I went back to my warm bed where I quickly dozed off.
December 23rd. The day before our adventure would come to an end. We headed to the ski resort, hoping for a successful day on the slopes. One by one we gathered our skis, hopped on the ski lift and eventually made our way back down the hill, only to repeat multiple times throughout the day. As recommended we stopped half way through our activities, took off our skis and scurried into the warm cafÃ©. The aroma of sweet hot cocoa danced around my nose as we waited in line. Once we were finished, we hit the slopes again, laughing, skiing, falling down the hills, making memories that would last a lifetime. As the day came to an end, we slowly headed back to our hotel where we then decided to leave early. It was eleven at night, my sister and I sleepily climbed into the car. I would not wake up until early the next morning.
December 24th. Three in the morning, pitch black, driving down a bumpy, aged, two-lane highway. Animals dart back and forth, left and right, tires screech, women scream. Suddenly, still, silence. As I opened my eyes I saw smoke, the engine had caught fire, and a giant animal limped away. My mom had hit a deer and completely totaled the car. Fortunately, my family remained unharmed; the same cannot be said for the deer.
December 25th. Christmas, a day to be thankful and thankful was an understatement. We made it home uninjured. What could have caused the driver, my mother, to die, left her without a scratch. That Christmas, I understood what being thankful meant, and every Christmas since we celebrate our wonderful, terrible, trip that brought us closer.
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