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Story listed as: True Life For Teens | Theme: Survival / Success | Subject: General Interest | Published here : 03/15/2017
The Labyrinth 
By Kevin Zhang
Born 2001, M, from Portland, Oregon, United States
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The Labyrinth
The sound of my alarm arouses me from a deep sleep. The ever-changing climate of arctic-like conditions are rarely present in Oregon; ergo, the lack of preparation for winter storms. While pivoting my head to the opposite side of the pillow, my bedroom door is thrown backward due to my open window. Peering out of my window, the abundance of white fluff, forming a seeming flat second layer of ground glistens in the sunlight as it mercilessly blinds whoever dares glance at it. After flinching back from the glass pane, and promenading to the other side of the room I let out a sigh. I am surprised by the lucidity of the sky. The hazy mess that had been apparent the other day is no longer there. The next handful of hours fly by as I exert my energy in shoveling the driveway. Collapsing into the powdered mess I find myself staring up at the pale blue abyss. Looking over my shoulder, a set of tire tracks imprinted into the ice is the only thing that I can see. The last fading relics of a nightmare I will never forget.

The frosty air wiped my face clean of emotion two days before. I walked drearily out to the courtyard that separated the two building of the school. The layer of frost that had coated the ground was littered with foot holes from the many others that had been dismissed before me. The feeling of a cold flake that had implanted itself on the side of my face was the last thing I felt before the entire school erupted in ecstasy. The sight of first snow in the state of oregon was always well welcomed, especially considering that such an occurrence was a rare sighting during the early parts of winter. Outside in the parking lot, billows of smoke rose from a multitude of directions, parents eagerly waiting on their children. I spotted my writing tutorís car. Minutes later, we had driven off.

The first sightings of the consequences of the winter weather was a car accident a couple of miles away. Only a thin layer of the white fluff had accumulated, yet the oregonian drivers with their vehicles unfit, and their driving skills unaccustomed to the low friction surface, were sliding left and right. As we slowly inched further down the road, the results had evidently gotten worse and worse.

The scene of a Michael bay film rendered on our windshield. At the slightest incline, there were a pile of abandoned cars. Most were sideways in orientation, having fishtailed inches behind the sidewalk. Some, who were desperate to get home, were slowly navigating the labyrinth of metal, wriggling through the cracks of the perforated wall. Others, had followed the status quo and left their car within the maze, building up its outer layers. As we slowly maneuvered around the metallic jungle, the wind howled at the automobile with all of itís rage; attempting to intimidate anything that passed by. Unwavered by the consistent attacks, we slowly but surely climbed up the hill.

The wind hit my face like a bullet from a sniper rifle. Snow, fluttering down beside me adding to the white blanket on the ground. I moaned and continued to trudge back home, up hill in midst of the stormís climax. The ride that the my tutor had given me could only go so far. Inevitably, to avoid getting stuck, I was dropped off from a little over half a mile from my residency. Once I had reached the halfway marker I thought that I should give up. My knees were sore and numb, and I could barely walk. But nature has itís way of creating miracles, and thus slowly, one step at a time, I broke the layer of ice on my front door, and at last, entered my home.
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