Narrative

While the teacher lectured, I stared out the window as my eyes began to feel heavy and my head began to drop. I tried to concentrate on what she was saying and I closed my eyes for one second. Before I knew it, seconds turned into minutes and I was hiking through an arid mountain landscape with burnt trees all around me, as I hiked upward. As I looked around, I had a strange feeling of familiarity. I was at the Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimarron, New Mexico. This area was known as Ponil Canyon where, years before, blazing fires had torn through the area, desiccating the aged evergreens. Shrubs and saplings covered the landscape and filled in spaces between charred trunks and burnt timber.
As I thought about how amazing the view was, I came to the realization that I was completely alone in a very treacherous landscape. “Where is my crew?!” I thought. I looked down from the precipice, but was unable to spot any signs of people in the canyon. I felt my muscles tighten as I began to grasp just how serious the situation was. I knew that panicking would not solve anything and fighting the urge to give in to despair, I attempted to think clearly. I dropped my pack and began to search for the gear necessary to survive in these conditions. I seemed to be missing matches, a knife, and a bear-bag. My water supply was dangerously low, at slightly over one liter. Finding water was the most important task. I decided that hiking onward would be the best plan. There must be a site nearby.
Step after step, I trudged onward, up the trail. I was relieved to find the terrain leveling off, making for easier hiking. My elation turned to dread as I looked to the sky. Dark clouds were rolling toward my location, moving very quickly. Thunder pounded as they billowed in my direction. Storms could be very dangerous at these altitudes and I quickened my pace, hoping to find a site to get water nearby. The weather could be here far before I was ready for it.
I was nearly running by now. My shirt rubbed awkwardly on my body and stuck in many places. It was damp all over and completely saturated in the back, where my pack trapped the moisture. I could feel the pressure of my pack rubbing hard on a single point on my shoulders. A blister would surely form there soon. Just as the trail took a sharp turn left, I tripped over a rock and lunged forward. As I started to pick myself up, there was a loud rattling noise near my head. I froze. I directed my gaze toward the sound, making sure to keep as still as possible. The rattlesnake was aimed directly at me! I began to slowly inch backwards. Suddenly a rock beneath my hand moved and I fell down toward the rattler! The snake shot forward and bit into my left shoulder! I screamed only to realize that I was now back in the classroom. The girl next to me had just tapped on my left shoulder as she passed the attendance sheet to me. Judging by the look on her face I must have nearly jumped out of my seat and what had been a scream was turned into a high-pitched squeak. I laughed along with her and thanked her for waking me up before the teacher noticed. I looked up just as the minute hand hit the ten and yawned loudly. It had been a very interesting class period.