On a snowy, winter night, my hands were trembling, I was shrieking as my hand slipped.
This holiday I went on a journey to Bavarian Alps, Germany to find a lost treasure that my great-grandpa searched for until he died. He spent his life having bonfires, riding sleds with the snowy wolves and having warm cups of coffee. He sang little songs like, “Ants go marching” and tried to sing the latest pop songs (but I doubt it was good). However he learned all the lyrics of my little sister’s favourite song and she enjoyed him singing it, while she cracked up laughing. Next, he told us stories about the snowy mountains when we were little.
One afternoon, we were at school, I remember it like yesterday. I was in English class and the office lady came in with my mum. Mum cried out to me, “Jamey, I need to talk to you, it’s about Grandpa Charlie!” I raced out of the room. Mum sighed and whispered to my face, “Grandpa Charlie got knocked down by an avalanche, I think he’s”, she paused, “gone.” When she said that everything froze, the room was silent.
So, when I set off to the snow I wanted to make him proud. We walked for days, searching for the unfound treasure.
One morning, I set out early to get some water before we start the hike. We went to find the closest river to get the water and purify it. After we arrived at the edge of the cliff we saw the river was down there impossible to reach. Therefore I twisted around planning on heading back to our camp. I slipped on the snowy ice, holding on to my mum’s hand for my life! I was screaming out, hoping I would be alive tomorrow. I was getting exhausted thus my hand slipped and I fell!