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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1574341-The-Fragility-Of-Life
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #1574341
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*NOTE: This is not a true story just creative writing like all of my other work will be!*         



          It was in the middle of winter.  Cold, wet; I walked the foreign streets of this unusual suburb.  The ground was covered in undisturbed snow; the snowfall had just subsided. Leaving a thin layer of snow on the ground.  Eager little children rushed out into the street to play kickball.  A red head was up to kick.  He was the real jock type.  You could tell by the way he held himself up.  He kicked the ball with the might of a stallion.

          As this child's game was going on; a young girl my age was shoveling her driveway.  She was exeptionally beautiful.  Even with the faint glow of the winter's sun her eyes shined with immense ferocity.  Her autumn brown hair gleamed as if she were an angel.  Just the aura that flowed from her body, her soul; it was peaceful, graceful.

        The ginger child had kicked the ball onto the lake thta the neighborhood enveloped.

          "Excuse me, ma'm.  Can you get our ball for us?"  Asked the red headed child.

          She replied with an affirmative nod and went to return the ball to the playful children.  At this time in winter the lake should of been completely frozen.  It wasn't.  She fell through the ice.  Grasping at the ice to try and stay afloat she dissappeared in to the water.  I ran to try and help her.  When I got there, their was nothing.  Just bubbles floating to the surface where she had been.  Finger nail markings were engraved in to the ice where she had tried to hold on.

          Slightly behind me I heard a faint pounding.  Vibrations trembled through the ice and up my spine.  I scurried around to see her pounding on the ice for help.  Even though she was underwater I could tell she was bawling.  Her aura had gone from peaceful and graceful to frightened, desperate, and sad.  The atmosphere itself had shifted.  It seemed as if the entire environment was filled with sorrow.  The snow started to lightly fall from the Heavens once again.  With one last blink the bright, beautiful eyes went to dull, hazed over eyes.  A gasp of air rushed out of her mouth, creating air bubbles as the life escaped her body.  The rest of her body floated to the top of the water and the bottom of the ice; unable to escape its cold, murkey cell.

          The ambulance and firemen arrived.  The kids were ushered inside by their parents.  Adults crowded the area to grieve and spectate.  She was pulled out of the water.  Only after the firemen had cautiously chipped at the ice with hatchets.  The ambulance crew cocooned her in to a body bag, lifted her in to the truck, and took her lifeless body away.  Her name was Natalie.  I knew this only because of the agonizing screams of her younger sister.

          That is the story of Natalie's death.  She needs to be remembered.  I did not know her but her spirit can not be forgotten.  She was an innocent, beautiful girl taken away by the cruelty of nature.  That is the meaning of this story.  Remberance.  Also, to remind everyone of how fragile life is and how easily it can be taken away.


     


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