Amanda Chritz

Mrs. Marsh
English 10A
10 March 2014
Ying and Yang
In a well practiced way, I found my fingers doing their usual duty of tightening the straps
that attached my feet to the polyethylene material below them. Hoards of people surrounded me
as I straightened my spine and took in the scenery. Without prior knowledge of how high the
altitude was, it was still evident in the way that there were no trees acting as a barrier from the
wind; I could see far over their tops. Between the colliding tones of various voices and the
mechanical drone of the chair lift, even my own inner voice was lost in the chaos. Despite this, a
familiar sound that resembled my name somehow managed to be comprehended by my brain.
My head craned to the direction of it, and I recognized the forms of my friends a short distance
down the mountain. Without a second thought, I followed them.
The large sign displaying a single black diamond approached rapidly with every careful
movement of my body, the sharp edges of the board cutting into the icy surface. The sign itself
was located off to the side of the path in such a way that if you were not specifically looking for
it, you would not have given it much thought. Looking beyond the worn plywood with "Back
Country Terrain" printed on the front, there was little indication that it was more than a dead end.
Mentally, I shrugged, allowing the slight decline to propel me forward in the direction of my
friends.

Crossing into the untouched terrain was overwhelmingly similar to stepping out from the
pressure of a waterfall. I did not realize how thunderously loud my world was until this new
silence pierced my senses. Ignoring the feeling of dj vu, I tried my best to focus on the task at
hand, and continued the descent that led me to round a corner that had once been previously
blocked by trees. As my eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, I instantaneously came to a
stunned halt.
Colorless walls loomed all around me and dull green pine trees stood like guards at a
castle gate, with a snowy channel that separated the two walls by only the width of a small car. A
flash of unnatural blue, green, and yellow caught my attention, the contrast of colors undeniably
noticeable against the fair white snow. My eyes followed the movements and recognized the
other three members of my group before they vanished behind the bend of the tunnel. Only a
couple feet from where the once flat area was, a sharp decline led to the bend where my
companions had disappeared.
Icy air filled my lungs as I maneuvered the sharp corners of the path and haphazardly
gathered speed through the enclosed space. Snow gathered heavily around my feet as I floated
over the surface and it barred a striking resemblance to a surfer who runs their fingertips through
the crest of a wave.
As I rounded the last turn of the tunnel, the walls fell away as if somebody had opened a
door. My focus, which had previously been occupied with adapting to the unpredictable
environment, was now on the figures that were only a short distance beyond the end of the
tunnel. Pain erupted in my back suddenly before I could comprehend the large amount of snow
that was now lodged down into my clothes. I landed solidly on my tailbone, and somehow

prevented the back of my head from colliding with the surface of the ground. I felt the warmth of
embarrassment spread to my cheeks as I quickly recollected myself back to a standing position.
By the time I reached the spot where my friends were located, they were already gone. I
did not have time to be upset with this before I felt my muscles give way to the pain that had
now radiated throughout my entire body. Gravity pulled me limply onto my back, and my arms
spread out like a bird. Flurries fell lightly onto the exterior of my goggles as I stared straight up
at the sky. My vision blurred and then refocused on the universe beyond the falling snowflakes,
dazed by the flashes of color that crossed the dreary grey surface in a way I had not seen before.
Powder conformed perfectly to the shape of my limbs, only heightening the feeling of
weightlessness on my aching body. Silence lulled in my ears as my brain twisted in an endless
slideshow medley of memories and emotions. I could feel my abdomen lurch as one specific
memory entered my consciousness, the thoughts of it rushing back with enough force to make
me gasp for air. It became painstakingly clear why the silence was so familiar to me when I first
entered the area; it was the same silence that follows life-altering news.
I was brought back to that moment, rapidly, remembering every second. I had been sitting
perched on a stool, the other half of my sandwich forgotten on the table beside me. Leaning
forward, I slowly arched my back to stretch the muscles that had been wound tight from stress
and worry. The sun shone brightly through the windows in a way that only occurs at the
beginning of Fall. Duffle bags lined the floor underneath the large opening in the wall, an
obvious indication that this was Cross Country territory. It was then, that my coach made his way
to the front of the room and all forty of my teammates collectively trailed their eyes to where he
was now standing.

I remember smiling; expecting him to share words of encouragement for the race that
evening, or some ounce of good news from the hospital. With a significant amount of strain, he
spoke the words that draped stillness throughout the room. A distinctive cry of disbelief followed
the phrases of brain dead" and "off of life-support". The same pin that was now lodged in my
heart could have dropped, with the equivalence of the clang of porcelain shattering on tile floor.
The mental blindfold was removed from my eyes as I violently returned to reality. No
longer was I sitting in a classroom in September, but surrounded by fresh January snow. Just like
that day, shock froze any tears from pooling in my eyes and I fought the overpowering urge to
throw up. Forcing these feelings into a far corner of my mind, I focused on the fact that I was
completely alone. My muscles forced me to stagger back to a standing position, and for the third
time within a five minute span, I was dumbstruck by the untainted innocence that enveloped my
every sense.
Completely pure terrain covered with a abundant layer of feathery snow lay dramatically
out ahead of me. Puffs of smoke could be seen drifting over the ghosts of trees, and this was the
only hint that I had not fallen down a rabbit hole. Sharp drops and rises surrounded me, but a
steadily decreasing path followed it all. Ever so slowly, I glide over the snow, gazing dreamily at
the world around me. It was only then that I registered the familiar frames of three people
waiting for me at the bottom. The throbbing in my chest became steadily more manageable with
every second in this new realm. Combined together, the pain and beauty created the perfect
match that could not exist outside of each other; my very own Ying and Yang.