Author's note: Here we go, chappies – one of the last chapters of Lucky Lara. Parting is such sweet sorrow. I'm going to miss this fic but in addition to Where Silent Lines (which I would REALLY love reviews for!) I'm going to do another… hope I will get reviews for THAT. I'm such a review pig.
The ride was truly what I could call exhilarating. It was nothing like the rest of my journey had been, and I was sure it'd be something to remember my entire life journey.
The slope was surprisingly well crafted, and certainly had been altered by hand. It was fairly steep, but perfect for sleds, and perhaps proper skiing.
The ice was so smooth, I wondered if it had ever been used. But further down, below its glassy surface, the ice was jagged, splintered and- well, torn. It had been used, but very long ago.
My bag slid easily along, making faint scratches somewhat similar to a broken cassette player, but more pleasant and considerably quieter. The metal pole-stick dug a long snaking trail while serving as a tiler and brakes.
It was tricky going in the dark; even though I could very faintly make out some outlines if I looked closely, like the designs in the ice, the edges of the mountain were impossible to make out at such a high speed. Every few minutes, I forced myself to stop. I dug my stick into the deep ice, stabbing holes in it as I inched left and right. I judged the distance between the two sides and approximately align myself to the center.
Sometimes I would scrape my pole against the very sides, teetering, trying to see if it was slanting dangerously. Twice I'd tapped the metal stick to my left and felt nothing but thin air.
Faster and faster I rode. The crisp, cool air no longer seemed chilly, and the once-unfriendly mountain slopes had become my playground. The swift breeze may have cleared my head – I didn't feel as nauseated – but I was still overwhelmed by the soaring sense of freedom, pushing a smile in place and tingling down to my very bones. I was sure that I was sane – for now – so then, could it be- could it possibly be real? Was I free?
And what on earth could have held all of this back for so many years?
I know this is a little short…
Oh no. She's not through yet. And she isn't going to die, don't worry. According to the bio I am following, we still have one real action scene to get through…. I have to do research on the blasted thing before I start so it might take me a while yet. : ) I mean, you think the metal stick is really just a stick?
