Essay on The Day Of The Ski

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When Ohil woke up in a crowded hospital room, he wondered where he was. He remembered nothing about how he got there, or who the people around him were. Then he remembered as he drifted off to sleep. He he happily skied down a mountainside when part of one of his skis broke off. He looked down to see what happened and part of the ski was decimated. He went tumbling down the mountain, only to hit a snow covered boulder. He flew into the air in a pandemonium of limbs and skiing equipment when he hit the ground. The last thing he saw was his watch, which read ten fifty-seven.
He woke up and read his watch which said twelve-forty-three. He was freezing, but he kept going relentlessly. As he walked, he heard what he thought was a cabin and people inside it. He walked toward it, but he was too weak to keep going. He decided he could crawl there, but he was sadly mistaken. At three in the morning he had moved but a few inches. But then something strange happened, he felt like he was on fire. His constricted blood vessels near the skin were dilating, causing a sense of extreme burning, being cold was not his premier problem anymore.
Then he remembered he was in a hospital with tubes sticking out of multiple limbs pushing hot water in. The doctors knew a phrase used when treating hypothermia victims that they had put in use with Ohil “You’re not dead until you’re warm and dead.” When his friends found him hours after his accident, he appeared dead. People brought him to the hospital…

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