Author Details: Vaishnavi, 10A
My name is Vaishnavi and I’m in grade 10A. My hobbies include reading and shopping, especially for jewelry! I wrote this story for literary week, hoping to write one with a lot of humor and unexpected irony that would enhance your reading experience. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it!

The snow had started to melt and was glistening beautifully on the rooftops and pavements. The street looked like an unfinished painting.  Much of the canvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artist’s hand to return. Houses were covered in pearl white snow and it was certainly a quixotic sight to perceive. While some watched the snow in awe, others seemed to detest it and would scowl as little benign droplets fell on them.

Mr. McMisery most definitely fell in the latter category. He almost always had a frown and today it seemed to consume his face.
"Damn it!" He cursed once again after losing his footing on the icy frozen pavements.
Kids ran past him, laughing at his plight, not even bothering to help him, after all why should they? It isn't like he was ever kind, he was just like his name suggested, miserable! Groaning Mr. McMisery angrily got up, only to find himself back on the ground once again.
"What happened Mr. McMisery? Is the ice being more miserable than yourself? I must say that's quite shocking!" a teenage boy hurled the comment to McMisery, laughing loudly with his friends as they walked away.
"Those darned kids! Oaf! I dare say, it seems as this ice has a prejudice against me!" McMisery loudly exclaimed, earning himself a few raised eyebrows from the people who were also walking on the pavement.
After much failure and slipping a few dozen time, he finally made it to the alleyway that led to his house. It was quite dark, as the sun had set but the street lights were far from working.  He was walking along, minding his own business for once, when suddenly something struck him.
 It was snow!
It struck Mr. McMisery on the head, and quite knocked him over. He fell to the ground and the snow trickled down his neck in the horrible cold way it has.
Mr. McMisery was looking for his hat when he was struck by something again- and once more he sank down under a mass of snow! He struggled up, and glared all round. Who was this, throwing enormous snowballs at him in the night? Who was it? If only he could see them. He aimlessly looked around to catch a glimpse of his perpetuator, when he saw a figure lurking in the corner.
Mr. McMisery crept towards his tormentor and then suddenly threw himself on the waiting figure with a very fierce cry indeed. "Got you! Got you at last!"
Down went his victim into the snow, his face buried in it, so he could only gasp and splutter.
Mr. McMisery soon managed to tie up the arms and legs of his victim with his tie and belt. Then McMisery dumped him in the snow and tied his mouth with a handkerchief.
"And now," said Mr. McMisery to the struggling, trussed-up fellow, "I'm off to the police station to get the sheriff and soon you will find yourself spend the night in prison!" Off he went.
He soon arrived at the police station but upon enquiring the assistant found that the sheriff was out and will return in a while. As McMisery waited, he started to think of all the awful and miserable things he could do to the man. Once the sheriff was back, he would lock him up for weeks, no months! Maybe even prosecute him! How dare someone throw snow at Mr. McMisery!
After a long wait, the door to the station chimed, signaling the entrance of the sheriff.  The sheriff, Mr. Plod, stalked into the police station, red with anger and shivering with cold. With him was the local baker, Miss Lisa.
"Sorry, I am so late," Mr. Plod said to the gaping assistant. "Some idiot leaped on me in the dark, got my face down in the snow and tied me up so I couldn’t shout or move. Wait till I get him. Just wait!"
The sheriff exclaimed while thankfully glancing at Lisa, "It is lucky that Miss Lisa found me on her way home otherwise I might as well have died of hypothermia!"
Upon hearing the commotion, Mr. McMisery's face turned deathly white . Oh, how foolish he had been! How much trouble he would get into for attacking the sheriff himself!
With that  thought Mr. McMisery promptly rushed out of the station as fast as his long legs could carry him. His face was as red as a rose. He had been witless and worst of all, he still didn't know who the actual miscreant who had thrown snow at him is.
He was fumbling in the snow when suddenly he was struck down again. The white snow covered McMisery from head to foot like ornaments covering a Christmas tree. He was almost about to bellow in anger when he noticed something. He turned beetroot red with embarrassment when he realized where the snow had come from.
It wasn’t someone, who was out to get him, that had thrown snow at him. In fact,  it was the most natural thing ever and Mr. McMisery happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Winter was almost over and spring had started to peak out. The snow everywhere was melting and here and there it was sliding off the steeper rooftops, falling onto gardens and pavements; it had unfortunately hit Mr. McMisery. Well it probably served him right for being so miserable on such a pleasant evening; it seemed as though even the snow had a grudge on him!
"I've been an idiotic imprudent," said Mr. McMisery, under his breath, as he hurried home. "I thought a roof-fall was a snowball-I pounced on Mr. Plod thinking he was the one that threw the snow at me- and goodness knows what he'll do to me if he finds out that I am the culprit. Well, I shouldn't be surprised if he sent me to jail for 50 years!"
Poor Mr. McMisery. He didn't go to sleep all night- and now he was waiting for the footsteps and banging on his door that would inevitably come and seal his life away.
THE END!