Snowball fight

The field was buried in a white hue. One by one the soldiers, bundled in their puffy jackets and mismatched wool gloves, stared at their ammunition busily crafting more. Their faces flushed from the cold; they paid no attention to their breath as it stayed suspended in the air. Clouds covered the sun and painted our skin grey. I looked around at our army. Everyone was so young. Some of us weren’t even six yet. Others barely in the double digits. Many people will try and glorify this war, but I assure you, there is nothing more horrifying than a snowball fight.

We were stationed behind the Bukowski’s house. The neighborhood was soon to become a battlefield wasteland of devastation. Well, except for the Johnson’s house because that’s out of bounds. We finished up constructing snowballs and began prepping ourselves for an incoming attack. Scottie took three others to guard the right side. Zach and Mikey hid under the deck to surprise any intruders. Myself and the rest of the group gathered our weapons to go scavenge. But before we were able to search, it happened. There was a shriek from behind me. I turned to see two of my allies getting pummeled with snowballs.

Kids participating in a snowball fight. Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons.

The assault seemed to be coming from every direction. I grabbed as many snowballs as I could and ran for cover. Taking shelter behind a tree, I was able to compose myself and assess the field. The enemy was everywhere. Coming down the left side of the house, over the fences, and even powering through the right side demolishing Scottie’s unit. I don’t know if I was scared or perhaps the weather was getting to me, but I froze. I could only watch as my friends were getting destroyed.

Little Jimmy tried to make a break for it but tripped. As he laid on the ground defenseless, four kids surrounded him and began to unleash fury. I couldn’t watch anymore. I charged, throwing with pure accuracy hitting them in the back and head. In a panic they retreated. For a moment we were able to hold them off.

As the rest of their squad pulled back, I approached Little Jimmy. He handed me a letter.

“Give this to my mom,” he whispered weakly.

“Hold on Jimmy. You can make it.” I replied.

“I’m one with the snow angels now.”

I left Little Jimmy there. As sad as I was, I knew we had to focus on the next assault. We began making more snowballs immediately. I couldn’t stop shaking. Little Jimmy was stuck in my mind. I pulled out his note and read:

Dear Mom,

                        I don’t think I’ll be home tonight till after sundown. We have so much work to do here, but I know it’s for the right cause. I would still like to have some hot chocolate if we have any more. If not, could you please pick more up from the store? Thank you. I can’t wait to see you and Dad soon. Next time you see me, I’ll be a man.

            Love, Jimmy

            P.S. Could you record Nickelodeon tonight?

You will be missed Jimmy.

We were prepared this time. We had even more snowballs and were ready to end this war. This time we were going to attack. As we marched to the front yard, we were able to see our opponents still wounded. This was the perfect opportunity. Taking one final breath, we charged into battle. Waves of snowballs cascaded on our enemies, crushing some into submission. Others quickly scattered and began firing back.

During the flurry, I noticed Zach was hit and on the ground. His face matched his red hair. As he slowly got up he yelled, “We agreed on no ice balls!”

“I lied!” Shouted back the opposite side.

This was war. There were no rules. Just a zone that truly was H-E-double hockey sticks. If that’s how we were playing, then I did what was necessary. I snatched a rock from the road and buried it into a snowball. With as much might as I had, I threw my creation smacking someone right in the forehead. I began to load a second rock when the fighting seemed to halt.

“Time out! Time out!” This was the one rule everyone respected. “He’s bleeding!”

People gathered around my target. “Who threw a rock?”

That question was being asked by everyone. We all looked around to see who did that. Myself included. The kid was crying, and we all knew what this meant. Everyone took off back to their homes except for two kids who were kind enough to take the injured child back to his house.

As for me, I was the first to leave. Back in my house I was greeted by my mother. “How was your snow day?”

I let out a heavy breath, “I’m ready for school tomorrow.”

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