Creative Writing: The Harsh Reality Blowing In The Snow

510 Words2 Pages

The harsh reality blowing in the snow
By Luna Lopez-Andrews, age 12

I lie curled on the ground. The cold is creeping closer and closer. I know I have to keep moving but it is so cold that even the squirrel I killed is starting to freeze.

I rise and pick up the icy squirrel in my jaws. I have to get home to my pups. They need food but I can barely nurse them for I am starving. I had to go hunting. I had to. The blizzard had come in so fast and now I am here. But where is here? All I can see is white.

I move around the rock where I was resting. The harsh wind makes me blink. I thought of my pups: four small, white fluff balls. Will I see them again? I start to move into the wind but it shifts direction. Am I going the right way? The snow …show more content…

It is soft. Could it be a bear? I start to run backwards then spin around and race in the opposite direction. The ground gives way. No! A cliff and I am falling. I hit the ground. Pain is seeping through my body. Where is the squirrel?

I hear a howl. What is that smell? It is wolves! They are all around me. They must have smelt the blood. l don’t know how many there are. Wait. The snow is slowing. I can see their ribs through their patchy hides. They are hungry too.

The white blind in front of my eyes gone, I can see something familiar. It’s my den. There are three wolves. Stronger and bigger than me but I thought of my pups waiting for me to feed them. I leap on to the closest wolf’s neck and taste its blood. My teeth nicked its cheekbone. It shook me off and I went flying to the ground. Everything hurt. I cannot beat them but maybe I can lure them away. I start running from my pups even though all I wanted to do was to go to them.

An elk! It stood there. Maybe it was still snow blind. I ran toward the elk then veered toward some boulders and hid in the crevice hoping the wolves would chase it. My stomach ached but not just because I was hungry. I was scared. My heart pounded. Would they hunt me? The weaker prey or go for the bigger

More about Creative Writing: The Harsh Reality Blowing In The Snow

Open Document