My father stepped into my bedroom and my body was still asleep, but when he spoke my mind was awoken.
"Nick," he said from above, "did you hear me?"
Both my eyes were still closed, "Yes Father." I answered.
"Come eat." his hand touched my shoulder...
TUESDAY, MARCH 8, 2016: First day of writing for the #JustWriteIt #Sports #March #Challenge, please vote and share if you like my story. New updates coming daily (ish).
Authors note: I find it hard to write the original words for a story on my laptop. The format that works best for me is to write by hand, in a notebook (with a black pen). This is a story of a boy named Nick going skiing with his dad. been of this story I have written by hand, then re-wrtten via digital input. Please note, I am aware it needs a few passes of editing. I still have a little more time, help me out and vote, comment and add my story Frost to #JustWriteit #Sports contest.
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FROST
By Sean Michael Hayes
My father stepped into my bedroom and my body was still asleep, but when he spoke my mind was awoken.
"Nick," he said from above, "did you hear me?"
Both my eyes were still closed, "Yes Father." I answered.
"Get dressed." his hand touched my shoulder.
"Ok dad." I couldn't move my body, it was too tired.
"Your Mother's cooking breakfast."
"All right."
"Your long underwear and winter socks are on your dresser for you to put on."
He walked out of the room and I took a deep breath. Was this really happening, I wondered, then I jumped up and the sleep was gone. I was wide awake, but it was still complicated getting dressed in the dark. I hadn't worn long underwear since before the summer.
My mother was cooking eggs in the kitchen. Butter sizzled in the pan, and the kitchen had a golden glow from the dimmed lights.
"Nick?" My father called for me from the front hall. I walked out of the kitchen and down the stairs.
"See if they fit" He asked me to try putting on the ski boots I wore last year. I tried, but I couldn't fit my foot into the boot.
"It's too tight" I said.
"Push harder." My Father pulled the tongue of the boot open. It didnt help. He stood back and put his hand on his hips.
"They hurt." I said. I looked down the boots. They were old and boring, which was weird because I had been so excited to wear them last year.
"Keep Trying." Said my dad.
"It won't work" I said in a shallow voice. I wanted them to fit, but they were too tight.
"They're cold, we can stretch them out."
"How?" I pulled my toes out of the boot and looked up at him.
"We'll warm them up in the car."
"Everything ok?" My Mother said from the top of the stairs.
"My boots just need to warm up." I said.
"How about your mittens?" She asked as she walked down the stairs. She grabbed my mittens from the front hall closet. They were my favorite mittens. On the top of each hand they had the Olympic rings stitched overtop of a Canadian flag. I think it must have been an sense of national pride that made me feel a special connection to them.
"Lets try your pants and jacket." my Mother said.
"Should I wear them now?"
"Just try them on to make sure they fit." My Father said and pointed to a blue rubbermaid that contained with the rest of our snow gear. When we had everything we needed my mom went back to the kitchen and my dad asked me to open the front door.
I ran a few steps and slid across the tiled floor of the front hallway in my big thick socks. I absorbed the impact and grabbed the latch on the door. I pulled it open and cold air crept past me into the house.
My father pulled his sweater tight around his neck and I shut the door after he walked past me with holding the box of snow gear. I watched him open the trunk of our car and then my mother called my name.
