THE SNOW : My Very First English Story

My English Main Course teacher aka Miss Ike asked us to write a narrative text. I've realized i've never written any complete english story before. I was very thrilled since it was my first fictional story in english. I was making it at my room in dormitory, on sunday but forgot the date. I enjoyed making it and love this alot since it was completely produced from my very own brain. ENJOY!

THE SNOW

By Raditya Putranti Darningtyas

“Do you have any idea what this one called?” His big right arm crossed over my shoulder. Brought all his warmness through my body. Tingling on my shoulder down my back. While his left hand held small and delicate white ball in his green-white stripped color handkerchief toward my face. The frozen smell filled my nose. It was pure white and flawless. It could be the symbol of chastity. In the contrary, it was also cold and freezing. I could sense its cruelty. My dad brought that thing all the way from faraway land for me just to find out how dumb his daughter was. I could feel my eyebrows furrowed. I bite my lower lip and shook my head desperately. I wish I had a clue.

“No, dad. I don’t know what this one is..” I was afraid to see his disappointed eyes. I was afraid if I let him down by my lack of knowledge insight. I lowered my head and cursed myself inside. “I’m sorry..”

***

I woke up in puzzlement. I reached my hand toward my smurf alarm clock. 4 AM. Guessed I woke up much too earlier. I sat on my bed and did some stretching before finally got out of my bed. I opened my eyes in big effort as if they were glued. My eyes were bloated of crying. My room was dark. After few seconds, my eyes adjusted in the dark. I could see pile of books on my desk. Used tissue papers scattered all around the floor which covered by coffee-brown colored carpet. The same grey color papered my wall. I rub my feet against the carpet until sudden pain on my toe stopped me. I sat down on the edge of my bed.

I lift my right foot on my lap. Scanned carefully in the dark and touch gently with my finger. Blood streamed down my foot. Big fraction of glass stood on my wound. “Hhh..” I moaned a little and bite my lip. The pain felt good to me but I hate the blood. Why couldn’t I get what I wanted without bearing the caused?

I didn’t feel like turning on the lights. I knew exactly what caused my wound. I must be upset last night. And involuntarily broke every photo frames in my room. I’m sorry.. My own child-like voice echoed in my head. Damn I hate it. A sudden familiar anger urged through my body. I pressed my palm against my wounded toe. Push the glass deeper. My skin was torn even wider. I could feel the sharp edge of the glass planted deeper. Sliced every inch of my flesh. Cut every nervous extension of mine. Cut whatever vessel inside. Have you ever wondered how this would feel when your feet stuck inside croc’s jaw? You tried to pull your feet out of its mouth but the more you struggle the deeper it’s teeth planted and scratch your leg. The worse pain last faster. The more pain I felt the harder I bite my lips.

I couldn’t scream. I mustn’t scream. I needn’t screaming. Screaming is for the lame. Screaming is for the weak. I deserved this. I deserved every grief I suffered. I deserved every sadness I bear. I deserved every pain I brought. “Brave girls do not scream, sugar. My girl does not scream..” The last thing I felt was the softness of my cotton linen bedcover on my head. My feet dangled from my bed. My hand palms stick and wet. I covered my face with them. And the familiar fishy rusted-iron scent drove me faint.

***

White light were illuminating all around the room. The fishy scent disappeared. Replaced by sharp scent of chemical liquid mixed with disinfectant or something. I don’t give a damn care. People rushed around in random step. They were all in white. The weird thing was I couldn’t see their face as if covered by dove feather or something. They seemed like touching every inch of my exposed skin. Hands were everywhere. Heads moved around and kept moving. My head felt dizzy. I wanted yell at them to stop dancing. Dance? I didn’t even know what the heck they were doing. I just wanted them to stop moving around me. But there were many of them and one of myself. Millions of needle hurt my feet. I surrendered myself and sunk into the mild darkness downward.

I could feel something cold fell on my burning forehead. Like soft cotton swept on my hair. Suddenly extinguished the fire inside my head. Brought me a great pleasure.“I think she’s got fever. What’s her temperature? “ Hazy voice sounded. And that hand lifted. The heat flame rose back in my head. Oh no, don’t take my pleasing snow away! I cleared my throat and tried my best to produce a sound.

“Don’t go!” I demanded weakly.

“Isabeau..?!” That same hazy voice sounded my name. “Oh God! How’s your feeling, hon?” The voice filled with joy and relief. Just now I recognized it’s a male voice.

“Bring the snow back..” I managed to answer him. His crisp sound of laugh echoed in my ear. This young man wore the same linen white robe with the one on my body. His thick spectacles biased the light from the lamp above.

“You were dreaming, weren’t you?” His hand squeezed my wrist. “Are you thirsty?” He asked. I mouthed the word ‘snow’ while letting my eyes closed. Maybe for good this time. Nobody knows though.

***