Personal Narrative: The Cabin

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3 years ago when I was nine. My family and I were out on our annual trip up to my grandparents cabin. One of my personal favorite places in the world. It was during the winter, and we loved to go up and snowmobile when we could. The Cabin is up in a remote, quiet and unpopulated place about an hour outside of Crested Butte. There is no mountain patrol or police up there to tell us that we can’t drive, so our parents do let us drive from time to time.

My little brother Caysen and I -- who shouldn’t have been driving at all -- were trailing behind everyone else. Caysen had always been really nervous about driving, but he decided he would give it a try just to make the others happy. We had been driving for about 15 minutes when we passed by the frozen pond, we saw a deer running across the snowy plain and Caysen got a little bit distracted. He started to swerve and soon enough he was off the trail. He panicked and didn’t let off the gas, if anything he sped up, he hit a rock hidden beneath the snow and he flipped off the Snowmobile, and hit his head violently on the ground, the Snowmobile landed about 20 feet away from him front down in the snow. …show more content…
Caysen was out for about 2 more hours before he actually woke up, he was really drowsy and couldn’t really understand anything we were telling him. That night we decided to dig the cars out of the snow, so we could go take him to the hospital. It took us over two hours to get there but we managed to get him into the E.R for an examination. He had a severe concussion and we were all forced to stay the night at the Hospital. He was released the next morning and the doctors just told him to lay low. We asked him if he wanted to go back to The Cabin or if he wanted to go home. Without even thinking he said he wanted to go back to The

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second. ” I have to get out of here," I say aloud even though there was no one to listen. I sprint with all my might back to Misty Point Lodge, the cabin where we were staying. I need to call the cops. I careen as I run through the trees. I hear a branch break deep in the woods. I’m too scared to turn around, I keep running. I finally get back to the cabin. I hop up the steps only to realize I don't have the key to get in. I stand on the potted plants to look through the window. I look in to see a boy…

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Slavery in American Literature Essay

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Competency Reflection

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Bp Reflection

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Slave Children In Slavery

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Julius Caesar Memoir

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