Unforeseen Power | Teen Ink

Unforeseen Power

February 12, 2008
By Anonymous

Unknown Location, Antarctica
10:25 P.M Central Standard Time
Russian Scientist S. Volski: I.D. 28758936

Stepheen Volski was tired, dead tired. The cold of the Antarctic bit at him through his thick layers. Ever gust of wind nearly pushing him down, the only thing keeping him from falling were two simple ski poles. He was lost. His compass was destroyed. His GPS lost in the snowmobile crash two days ago. He couldn’t be sure. He lost track of time about the second he collided with a glacial gap. A splitting glacier made a five foot wide canyon that was not on any chart he remembered. The snowmobile went down the opening but he was thrown like a rag-doll twenty six feet away. Then he just started walking. Walking for days with no food and only a small supply of water. Things were not looking up for him. His whole life has been bright and meaningful, until now it seems.

Stepheen Volski was born in Novgorod, Russia on April 26, 1985 and that made him one of the youngest scientists ever to go to the Antarctic to study everything from global warming to metals in the ice. He was top of his class in all of his education, married the most beautiful girl in college, and was basically graced with the good luck we all wish for. Even after all of his accomplishments, nature still had power over him and he was losing quickly.

You are smarter than this Stepheen! Think for the love of God! He was trying to keep conscious and if that meant insulting himself he would do it. He trudged through the snow, a weary man with no destination. Stepheen was not religious but starting to regret that. He had always seen the world five seconds ahead and with his death close, it was looking like a great way to pass the time. All those science degrees are sure helping me now. He thought to himself, cracking a smile. What a way to go out. Some young blood scientist goes out into the wild in anger, gets lost and dies. No one will notice. My wife maybe. I just wish I could say good bye or something. His wife wanted him home because she was afraid that something bad would happen. He yelled at her to quit treating him like a child. They argued in the cold halls of the base with the occasional scientist poking his or her head out to withness the fight. His last words to her? “I guess you really don’t care about me!” He then picked up an objective sheet and got ready to go out. He heard his wife cry, but would do nothing. Is that who I am?A selfish man with nothing to show for all his “accomplishments?” His legs buckled. He could not breathe.

He fell into the snow with a heavy thud. Snow and ice fell into his mask and the small breathing holes. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable, asking every God he knew for forgiveness and begging for a chance to see his wife again. He pushed up with all of his strength, only to touch something solid beneath the snow. It was a tube of some sort with an opening on the front and back, connected by some sort of hinge. The more he uncovered it, the more alive he felt, like it was almost making him come back to life. He pulled the object out of the blizzard, revealing a metallic like weapon. It gleamed in the sun peeking through the snow. He could barely see it. Only seconds later, a bright white lit the area, making Stepheen cover his eyes in pain. A man walked over to him, almost not even affected by the snow. He held his hand out and gestured to the weapon. Stephen wanted to stop it but couldn’t and it was just to be taken out…

“Honey? You awake? You been out for a day or so.” The voice was so familiar. Stepheen opened his eyes to see the base, his wife, his colleagues around him. It was later explained that a bright white light attracted the searchers to his position. Confusion gripped him on whether it was a dream or not, he simply gave a hug to his wife and whispered, “I love you” into her ear. Always count on the unforseen powers of the world, a voice whispered in his mind.


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.