Once in a Full Moon by Ellen Schreiber Read Free Book Online Page A

out a few minutes ago were now difficult to see. I realized if I couldn’t see anything, then an approaching driver’s vision would be impaired, too. There wasn’t much room between the road and the bike trail, and I worried a driver might drift off the road now that the lines were invisible. To play it safe, I stepped off the bike path and caught my breath by a row of evergreens. The tall, lush trees blocked most of the wind and snow. The scene around me was breathtaking, but when the gusts grew even stronger and objects only a few yards away became invisible, I decided to press on. I hung on to several evergreens as I walked, using them to guide me forward. Before I knew it, I was grabbing brush instead. I could no longer see the trail or the road. I was frustrated. As the elements were battling against me, all I saw was snow above me, in front of me, and on either side. I could barely keep my eyes open. I was getting really cold and wanted to get home. I walked from tree to tree. I assumed they were paralleling the road and bike trail. I continued on until I grew tired. I stopped by an old oak and leaned against it, catching my breath again. I hadn’t seen anything but trees for a while. Then I realized—where was I?
    The snowfall was getting worse. I was frightened. I knew the Eastside very well and it was so developed that people, businesses, and homes were in easy reach. I decided to stay put for a few minutes and ride out the storm. When it was clear, I’d get my bearings back and figure out my location.
    If Ivy and Abby could see me now, they’d surely freak. They’d blame themselves for not insisting I return with them and gripe at me for being so stubborn. One thing was for sure, they’d never let me set foot in Riverside again.
    There were no signs of civilization—Gerald’s Garage, or a cabin. I was really getting cold. My nose was starting to sting, and the freezing temperatures were penetrating my thin hoodie. Originally, I was only a short distance from my house, and now I’d managed to get myself so turned around, I wasn’t even sure where I was on the planet. My good mood had soured. The weather had gotten the best of me. My chest felt heavy and my breathing became short. My heart pounded. And though I was cold, I started to perspire. I still had no idea where I was and which direction I’d been going. And most important, I didn’t know how I was going to get out.
    The wind and snow weren’t ceasing; instead, the snow drove down in a blinding heavy fall, and the wind whipped it around me.
    I decided to call my parents. I knew someone would surely come to my rescue. I pulled out my cell but couldn’t get a signal.
    I remembered that sinking feeling when I was a kid and I was lost in a store and feared my mom would leave me behind. And though I was older, I felt the same isolation and desperation. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.
    I tried my phone again, but still no connection.
    I knew the world was bustling like it normally did in inclement weather. Children coming home from school grabbing their sleds. Adults stocking up on milk and bread at the grocery store. And then there was me—stuck in the middle of nowhere.
    The solitude was eerie. It wasn’t like when I was inside my bedroom listening to my music, knowing my family would return from a night out. There was no one coming for me. Ivy and Abby were heading in the opposite direction and wouldn’t realize for hours that I wasn’t home. Nash was at practice and wouldn’t contact me until late evening. And my mom thought I was with Ivy and Abby. She wouldn’t wonder where I was until dinner.
    I should have been home by now. The sun would be setting soon and Mom would be serving a delicious, piping hot meal. Instead, I was growing hungry and was lost in the woods in a major blizzard. The snow began to rise around me. It was only going to get darker and colder.
    If I wasn’t in trouble now, I knew I would be by nightfall.