Descriptive Writing Weekly Contest | Week #1

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The sound of snow on my roof. The thousands of footsteps colliding with it in a flurry of unique flakes of frozen goodness. That was all I could hear as I lay in my bed that cold winter night. I got up and pulled on a warm, green woollen jumper that I had received from my grandmother three days prior. I pulled myself up out of the warm depths of my bed to glimpse out of the window but, to my dismay, I couldn’t see a thing other than the peaceful white snow covering my window. I crept downstairs, being as quiet as the silence just before dawn. I quickly made a steaming mug of luscious hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on it. Then came the time for me to put my warm furry boots on and step outside into the unknown. The cold, that was what I felt first. The cold hurricane of snow bombarding my whole body and instantly turning me into a block of ice.
My steaming mug of hot chocolate was the only thing keeping me warm as the flurries of snow were hitting me. All of a sudden, over the vast mountain scape there was an orange light in the sky. Within a few minutes the warm sun was rising in the east of the vast scenery I could see before me. It was then I decided that the next day, me and my brother would go sledging.
Later that day, me and my younger brother, Sam, went out to go sledging down the nearby hills. When we got to the top of the first hill, we both looked at each other briefly, both smiling as to signal that we were ready. We placed our sledges down on the cold frozen ground, sat down on them and then pushed off. The exhilarating speed was amazing in the rapid rush down towards the bottom of the hill. In that brief moment, we were both free, we had not a single care in the world at that point. Then, suddenly, my brother’s sledge went out of control. He started rocketing towards the barbed wire fence at one side of the hill, away from the safe path we had walked up. The sledge kept going and there was no way of him stopping it. The red sledge slammed into the fence, Sam going with it. All I saw was a pool of blood and I could hear a terrifying shriek. The shriek wasn’t coming from my brother, it was coming from me. Sam’s head was impaled on the fence, blood pouring down his face. I quickly grabbed my mobile phone out of my pocket and immediately phoned 911.
They said that when the ambulance got there, he was already beyond their help, that he had already lost far too much blood to recover. They tried their best to bring him back but their attempts were to no avail. That one moment of freedom had cost so much. Never had I expected that something of this magnitude would happen. All I remember is my mother’s face, the crumpled mess covered in tears. It was my fault that Sam was dead, I had been the one to decide we were going sledging. I tried to comfort my mother but she was well and truly broken. When we got home I sat down on my bed, sat down and wept for my lost brother.