Alright, I don't even know where to begin. This isn't your normal story, something about it is special..but I can't understand what.

Well, I, Elaine, was about 7 when I went up skiing with my family. Exciting right, no, because we always went up skiing. We skied our runs and were
almost ready to head home. Gosh sake, it was already 4;00pm. So I'm sitting with my sister making normal conversation, when out of no where, a nasty
storm starts to come in. We were high on the mountain and the snow was pelting us.

"Gosh, this snow is crazy!" my sister exclaims.
"I know. I don't like it, I won't be able to see very well." I said frightened.
"Oh get over it you'll be fine." my sister said.

Knowing my sister, I was just happy she didn't say worse. She gave me a little push showing me we were getting off. So there we are, my mom, dad, and sister. At the top of a gigantic snow hill.
"Alright kids, go to the bottom!" my dad shouted over the scream of the wind.
I kind of stand there for a while, trying to see. I could barely see the outlines of the trees and people. I guess that's all you need to see when skiing anyways.

I get up enough courage to start skiing down. I'm doing well until I come to what looks like, a cliff. Well obviously it wasn't because everyone was going down it. But still, something about it scared me. As I stare at the cliff, I see people go over it. It just looks like they have disappeared into thin air. People are rushing past me, blowing snow into my lane. Inching towards the hill, I start to feel the snow sneaking into my gear. This was the coldest I've ever felt, my toes and fingers were already in an numbing burning stage. The only way to go now was down. I had to just get it over with quick, like ripping a band aid off your arm. Flying over the hill my skis are conjoined with the icy ground. But as soon as I realize that I'm going really fast, I'm already at the bottom.
Phew, I'm back home, in my bed. While lying there, I think of how I did such a good job.

6 years later and I'm officially a snowboarder. I'm still a little rough on my toe side, but it takes practice. I go snowboarding once in a while and it's really fun. But something haunts me still. After all of these years. A dream, of that hill when I was 7. I have this dream about once every week. And it goes like this; same storm, same ride up, but the hill is noticeably different. People are literally falling off of it. I could see that, but I couldn't stop, or even slow down. The ground seemed like it was melting and all you could see was white. I was approaching the destination and i was shaken with fear. The ground disappears under me and I'm falling into was looks like a piece of paper owned by someone affected with writer's block. Then, I wake up, sweating. Literally dripping sweat from my head and arms. Looking at the clock I see I should probably start getting ready for my school day.

"Look who's up!" my mom says
"Mgkdalkjf" i say, to tired to spit out any other words.
"Hunny, you don't look so good." my mom says in her motherly voice.
"I had the dream again."
"Oh I see, well we are going skiing/snowboarding on Saturday, so maybe you'll stop having that crazy dream after that"

That was it! I needed to concern it for it to stop haunting me. How could I not think of this?
In school I was bored out of my mind. Sketching my haunting dream. The days passed by slowly but finally it was Saturday, my day to shine.
We headed up and I was acquainted with my hill again.
"Oh really?" i say. "You don't scare me anymore!" I exclaim while curving down the hill.
I hit something. Hard, a ball of ice. That's all it took for me to be beat against the ice hill. Surprisingly, I got back up. Yes, I was sore as heck, but for some reason. I had a connection with the hill. Yeah, yeah, I know its nerdy and weird, but it's true. That's all it took.

I am no longer afraid of the gigantic ski hill that haunted me. I felt like the hill and I were playing a game. Half the time it was torturing me with my memories, but it was still a game. The first part of the game was myself skiing down the cliff-like hill without being taken down, like a zebra escaping the hold of the lion. The second part of the game was the hill teasing me with its nightmares that were filled into my head. And lastly, I let the ski hill win. I let it take me down. "No Elaine, that's a lie, you hit the ball of ice and then fell!" Oh on the contrary. I saw it, and was too lazy to avoid it. Yes I still have those same dreams, but nowadays, when I'm falling, I'm falling gracefully. Actually not like falling at all, but like flying.