He stepped out of the cable car that had taken him to the top of the mountain. There were not as many people up here compared to the slopes further down. The piests were more challenging now, and fewer people were advanced enough to be able to tackle the tricky and steep slopes. Everyone had started to attach their skis to their boots, and the first people had started to head off down the mountain. The amount of people was decreasing, and when there were only a few left, Jean turned and headed off down the opposite side of the mountain. This area was relatively shallow, and he glided gracefully through the open mass of snow, as he attacked his first jump.
Jean was really starting to pick up pace here, and the jumps were becoming harder to land. He pulled up, and looked down at his watch. It was half past five already, and the orange sunset was starting to become visible through the mountains. It was time for Jean to head back to the hotel, but he could not resist going for another couple of jumps before retiring for the day. He dug his poles into the ground and pushed off, gliding on over the snow. The snow was at its thinnest here, and as he lifted off the ledge, which was by far the largest he had gone off so far, his breath was taken away as he flew through the air. Jean had misjudged exactly how high the cliff actually was. He tried to keep his body parallel to the ground, but he was just starting to lean forward. He had started to panic. He knew if he went too far he would snap his legs, and as he continued to fall he continued to tilt.
All types of thoughts had started to rush through Jean’s head as he hit the snow. He was imagining the pain he would be going through, but as he felt the front off his skis hit the surface, he felt no pain at all. His eyes had been closed when he hit the snow, but had opened immediately. He could no longer see the mountains in front of him, just a huge white mass of snow. He knew he was falling, but could not see where to. As he continued to fall, the same feelings as when he was about to hit the snow flowed through his mind. He did not have any idea of how far he had left to fall, and what would break it.
Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, Jean came crashing down into the large solid shelf of ice. His skis where still attached to his feet, but he had let go of his poles after falling through the snow. His legs and skis had hit the ice first, with the skis taking a small amount of the impact. They had snapped clean in two, which was exactly how his legs felt. His left was painful, but he was sure that it was not broken, as for the right leg, there was no doubt that it was broken.
He lay there, on his left side, with his broken right leg on top searing in pain. He was dazed, trying to think with a clear mind, but the shock was just too much. It had been just a couple of hours ago that he had been sitting in the hotel restaurant with his family talking about what they were going to do this evening. It seemed so long ago, and as he thought about it more, he yelled, the sound of his voice echoing around the huge underground cavern, so loud, yet no one could hear him.
He was unsure how long he had been lying there, and as he looked down at his watch (it was nearly 6 o’clock), an idea came to him. He felt for his phone, although lifting his arm was a struggle, as he sunk his hand into his back left pocket. When landing he had not smashed the phone, and he could feel it as he lay in pain. With one final push he grabbed hold of it and pulled it up, his fingers clasped around it. As he pulled it out he rolled onto his back, bringing the phone round in front of his face. It was growing dark, and only a small amount of orange light was coming in to the cavern. He stared at the screen, and to his horror, saw that there was no signal. He blew out his chest, with the horrible sinking feeling that he was buried alive. The worst thing was no one knew he was there.
