With the students gone, the campus is all mine. My house sits at the bottom of the hill that the school is built upon. Since I also have no school, I did what every young boy does; I went outside to have fun. The sleeting ice did not bother me, and the chill in the air is never a problem to a boy who is having a pleasurable experience. Trying to walk up the pathways of the campus is difficult, because they have a glossy looking sheet covering up their usual pavement grip. Walking up I knew my red plastic sled was going to zoom across the top of the ice with barely any friction holding back. I had a feeling this day and the up coming days were going to be filled with great excitement.

To top it all off, my brothers and some of our lifelong friends came up to join in. Six curious and fearless boys now occupied the top of the hill. They were anxious to get this NASSLED (like NASCAR but for sleds) race started. The oldest boys, Andrew, Peter and I were in the front of the staring grid. Tom, Pack, and Luke were bringing up the rear. I started the race with the famous words “Three, Two, One, Go!” Off we went like bullets, our sleds making a mere scratching noise as they screamed atop the frozen racetrack. Past the campus Dining Hall I went, Andrew was in front of me, but I was gaining ground. I could also feel Peter gaining on me as I passed the old outdoor hockey rink. The hill began to get steeper; this is where the men were separated from the boys. Peter had pulled a half a sleds length in front of me and Andrew was a half a sleds length in front of him. Tom, Pack and Luke were too far behind us to worry about, they were now racing for separate bragging rights. Holt Hall was rapidly approaching and so was the finish. I had to make my move now. I tried to go to the inside of Peter, but it seems simultaneously he clipped with his right arm an ice covered fallen tree branch. The branch must have been two inches around, it lashed out and cold

Some topics in this essay:
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