kate_writes_stuff

Canada

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activist & communications lead of my city's teen climate strikers!
INTJ | Ravenclaw | Libra

Message from Writer

Hi! I'm Kate, I'm 15 and I've been writing for as long as I can remember! My favourite thing is to find new styles to write in, since I do a lot of academic style and technical writing, so I'm always looking to improve my creative writing. I like to do historical fiction, coming of age, and LGBTQ-themed stories. I love writing peer reviews almost as much as I love receiving them!

Happy writing everyone :)

December in Lynn Valley

December 9, 2019

    When I was fourteen, I spent December thinking about how beautiful he was. The Students' Council did an 'ugly sweater day' as one of our Spirit Events To Promote School Spirit. He wore this weird fuzzy red thing that didn't really look good on him. It didn't quite compliment his undertones the same way his blue coat did. I'd recognize that blue coat anywhere. Everyone wears their coats into class since I guess the school district is too broke to pay for heating that actually works. His  coat made him look young. Normally high schoolers always try to look older, but I adored how he looked charming and youthful like an innocent child. Maybe that was my brain trying to find a way to make a guy who who maybe 5'4 seem attractive. But he was, at least to me; his skin looked the colour of something my dad would bake out of rich dark chocolate and share with us on a winter evening. 
    December that year brought with it a dusting of pretty white powder that blanketed the world, instilling in everyone two feelings: holiday spirit, and dread of winter traffic. When it snows in Lynn Valley, it snows on the mountains. There are three ski resorts which are all a half hour's drive away from my house. If you don't ski or board in Lynn Valley, you have no social life. Nothing matters when you're shooting yourself down a slope of ice and cold and damp, supported only by a bit of fibreglass and your own courage. When you've reached the point when  your legs are burning with heat and your hands with cold, you go into the lodge and buy overpriced hot chocolate and you smile because skiing is incredible. Skiing was the best thing about December that year. 
    I made it my mission to get him to date me. This was about a week before we went on break for the holidays, so I was being ambitious, I knew. He wasn't out of my league so to speak, but I was terrible with boys. I couldn't get my mouth to form words around him, but I didn't want to regret not taking the chance while I had it. The problem was that I liked him too much. It was doing me much more harm than good. 
    When I was a kid I could never sleep on Christmas Eve; I would get excited butterflies in my stomach as I fantasized about bright paper and string and what would be inside the boxes under the spruce tree. It wasn't beneficial since a kid who hasn't slept is not a happy kid, but that feeling of bubbling giddy anticipation inside me was the best feeling in the world. It was the same feeling I felt when I lay in bed and thought about him. It reminded me I was alive. Nevermind the embarrassment I'd surely feel tomorrow when I went to talk to him and made I fool of myself. At nighttime, I had him all to myself, and he never had to know. 
    December in Lynn Valley is beautiful, but only on the outside. You can't appreciate it when all you see is a boy you can't have. 
    
 
    When I was fifteen,  I spent December working and thinking and noticing. I wrote a composition for English class about myself. I told my English teacher everything I never tell people. I don't really mind sharing things about me if it's on paper and it's not getting discussed later. 
    December wasn't a pretty month that year. It rained and rained and didn't stop. It didn't snow on Christmas. It was rarely above zero degrees. I walked to school every day instead of taking the bus despite not being able to get warm the rest of the day. I walked to school everyday instead of taking the bus because it meant I had half an hour where I didn't have to talk to anyone. In Lynn Valley the sun doesn't rise until nine in December, and I start school at eight-thirty. In Lynn Valley you can see white puffs when you breathe, like vape smoke except the only flavour is sadness. 
    In Lynn Valley, there is a shopping mall right in the very centre of town. In the middle there is a concrete plaza, and every December, they fill it with Christmas trees. Schools put one up, and so do most of the businesses. There are about forty in total. People can vote on their favourite. Most of them are ugly, but from far away it is the most beautiful thing in the valley. That's saying something, since people come here from all around the world to see our mountains and our canyon and our beautiful creek, which in the winter is a rush of teal water that ripples over the rocks with a sound that can almost be tasted.  
    December that year wasn't very photogenic, but somehow it was absolutely beautiful. I smiled at the scent of rain on concrete. I stared and stared at the Christmas lights. There seemed to be more of them that year, or maybe I just hadn't realized they were there before. 
    I missed out when I was fourteen. December in Lynn Valley is the best time of the year if you stop to enjoy it.
 

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  • December 9, 2019 - 11:31pm (Now Viewing)

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2 Comments
  • anoushka1705

    I love the raw emotion in this piece. You should write more.


    8 days ago
  • ElsaRee

    nice!


    24 days ago