By Middle-School Blogger and Graphic Artist Mark Huber
Part 1
“Hey, Mark, you okay?” David, my brother, asked me. My name is Mark, obviously, because that’s what David had called me. Anyway, I had just crashed into a tree while skiing, and I had hit it so hard that the snow on the leaves fell off and buried me.
I shook the snow off and did a thumbs-up, then put my skis back on.
“Whoa, Mark, look at that!” said David. There was a guy on a snowboard who had just slid on a railing and stuck his landing.
“That’s great,” I said. I now said that so often, that my parents thought of it as “my new catchphrase.”
We hopped back onto the trail, and I was heading straight for a ramp. I raced onto it, and then promptly veered off of the left side of the ramp, and into the forest (veering off the trail was a huge accident). I was still on my skis, and was still going fast. I had to dodge trees, boulders, and dead bushes. I had no idea where in the ski resort I was, or if I was still in it at all. Then, I saw a clearing, and darted toward it. Then, I fell into a ravine.
“AAAAAAAHHHHNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I screamed, and tumbled into who-knows-where. I could no longer see any light, and when I finally stopped tumbling, I hurt all over my body.
“Ow, I huurt aallll oooovvvvveeeeee…” I said, my words slurring.
And then I passed out.
I woke up in a hospital. I had all sorts of things attached to me, and my family was next to me, and they looked really worried.
“Hey, Mark, you okay?” David said, but less casual and much more worriedly than the last time he said it.
“Aye, aye, captain,” I said. David giggled the tiniest bit.
“What time is it?” David asked Mom.
“1:04,” she said.
“That’s great,” I said. Then, I looked out the window, and finally processed what Mom had said.
“WHAT?!?! You guys are 4 hours from home at one in the morning all because of ME?!?!” I said, worried about everyone’s sleep.
“Shhhh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhhh!!!” said Mom. “Be quiet, there’s other people.”
“Oh, it looks like Mark is ready to get out!” said a doctor. Then, he and the other doctors removed all the thingamajigs from my body, and I went to sleep.
I woke up in our hotel room inside the ski resort’s hotel. I was on the nice, comfy bed in the corner of the room. Then I fell off the bed. The people who had rescued me had apparently grabbed my skis along with me out of the ravine, so I saw them leaning against the wall.
I put a beanie on, grabbed my skis, and headed for the door.
“Where are you going, Mark?” asked Dad.
“Ski,” I mumbled sleepily.
“Wait, what? Nonononononono-” said David. Then I closed the door, and went down to the ski trails to ski. I picked a really steep one, and went down it. I gained speed pretty quickly, and soon everything next to me was a big blur.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHWWWWWWWWHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed, feeling really happy.
I saw a hill, with a sign saying “DO NOT ENTER.” I needed to take a tight turn, but I knew that if I did, I’d wipe out, big-time. Besides, I couldn’t control myself anymore. I would go on the hill, fly off, and land in who-knows-where. And that was exactly what I did.
I could make out the hotel that my family was in. Oh, no, I thought realizing that I would crash. Right before the impact, I saw David turn around towards the window, and make a very surprised face.
THUMP.
You should’ve seen me in that window when I hit it. Speaking of which, you can make something showing me in that window with Google Drawings, and online drawing tool that…
No. I am not telling you about this blog post’s sponsor in the middle of the story. But, here’s the picture anyway:
“Mom, mom! Open the window, Mark’s back!” I heard David say, muffled through the glass.
Mom opened the window, and I told her what happened.
“Wow, that’s COOL, Mark! You really skied up a hill and flew off onto the window?” said David in awe.
“Yeah, I did. Now, I’m gonna rest because my head hurts,” I said.
And then I went to sleep.
Part 2
“Rise and shine, buds!” said Dad.
“Aayyy, let’s go skiin’!” I said.
I put on my skis, and waited for everyone to put on theirs. Then, we went to the trail where I had flown off that hill and back to the hotel room. When we got there, David gulped.
“Uh, Mark, are you sure about this?” David said, a bit of fear in his voice.
“Yeah, totally!” I said. “I’ll lead the way.”
We headed down, and we all went cautiously slow down the trail. When we saw the hill ahead, I told my family to go the normal way, and I’d go on the hill again. They were very unsure of this, despite my telling them that I’d go slower, and I finally convinced them to let me go.
What I was thinking was that because the trail goes around the hill, taking the hill would be like a shortcut.
I was in the air, having a great time, and I could see the surprised faces of my family watching me fall with style towards the ground, when I got shot by a missile.
Who would do that? Chris Ideeyowt, whose life mission is to destroy me because I got him expelled from my school (to be fair, he was the biggest bully at my school and was feared by all the kids).
“Darn you, Chris!!!” I yelled, and me and my flaming butt fell way off the trail, into the snow, where fortunately my butt was extinguished. I saw a helicopter above me, and a little orange dot inside of it. Then, I saw the helicopter shoot more missiles at me. I opened my mouth wide enough to let a missile through, and the missiles went into my mouth. I spit them, rapid-fire, at Chris’s helicopter, and it blew up.
In reaction to this, Chris said some very bad words. I got back on the trail, and met with my family again.
“Sorry, had to attend to some Chris problems,” I said.
“Err, Mark… you’re crispy on one side, and your butt is charred,” commented David.
“Great,” I said.
“Uh-oh, Chris comes to town,” said David. That was what we said when Chris was around. I got a banana out of my snout storage and threw it at Chris. (Chris hates bananas for some reason.)
“Enjoy!” I said to Chris, just to annoy him even more.
Epilogue
We went back to the hotel, and took our skis off after a long day of skiing. I made a joke that the last three days of skiing should be called “How NOT to Ski, with Mark and David” in the hotel room.
When we got back home, I decided to write a Google Doc about what we did at the ski resort. My parents and David really liked it, and I decided to post it on my school blog.
And that is the long story that you just read.