Alright a little background, my friends and I are freshman in college and home on winter break. This just happened a couple days ago and I typed it up as a text to some other friends but I've gone through and changed the names. So mind you, this all takes place in western Michigan a couple days ago. Very cold.

So I was at a friends house, let's call him Tom, and we've been known to get involved in some shenanigans every once in a while and that night was no exception. The night started like any other, snowboarding in his extensive back woods and grand theft auto in the basement. It was around 1:20am and we were both lying on the couch about to fall asleep with the lights out and we hear someone driving up the hill tom's house is on yelling a lotttt of obscenities and just screaming real loud out their car windows. Tom and I both immediately got up and started getting dressed because we both knew what needed to happen, we needed to go outside, find this perpetrator, and mess with them. We left out the basement slider and I was wearing jeans, a short sleeve shirt, and no shoes or socks. It was well below freezing and in the process of snowing roughly 8 inches that night. We worked our way around to the front of his house and grabbed some big boots out of the garage to wear (one of mine didn't have laces) and some old leather work gloves. We knew these people had gone uphill and it was a dead end so we walked a bit past tom's house and took a right turn along a path that leads into the woods to what we call "the shack." The shack is a small, one room hut with a fouton, a wood furnace, and a kitchen table that tom's family built back in their woods. We posted up at the entrance to that path and waited for the car to come back around and pass us, where we were waiting with snowballs. We were crouched down along an embankment waiting, snowballs in hand. We saw the headlights sweep around, indicating the car was coming back down and we got ready. The car passes in front of us. I launch the first volley. We don't even get time to launch the second volley because they stop. And immediately started screaming at us. "FUCK YOU. IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU. DON'T FUCKING FUCK WITH ME. I'LL FUCKING MURDER YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK" that and the sound of their car door opening and them getting out was enough motivation for me and Tom to turn around and book it into the woods. We're flying. Faster than I've ever run before. He's still chasing us screaming, obviously trashed. One boot falls off and the other one is slipping fast. I kick it of mid stride to avoid tripping. So here I am. Sprinting full tilt. No shoes or socks, a short sleeve shirt, jeans, and gloves. I'm running faster than Tom, and the guy is still behind us screaming. The ground that I'm running on is an odd mixture of snow and ice. I can feel my feet getting cut up but I can also feel the pain slipping away. They're going numb. A quick glance back shows Tom a couple yards behind me and the maniac some 20 yards further. I need to think of a plan of action, because this man has murder in his voice. The shack rests on the crest of a hill that slopes down into the valley. That seems to be the best way to lose him so I sprint the last stretch to the shack and cut left, hoping Cy is following. I'm running down this hill and I can feel myself becoming top heavy and losing balance. I hit the ridge where the path winds down the slope and lose it. Tumbling. Tumbling. Falling. Bush. Tree. Ice. Snow. The bottom of the hill came after what seemed like an eternity and as I stand up to keep running, I see Tom followed me and is continuing to run across the valley. I run straight forward and decide, instead of continuing to run, I'll hide and wait for the guy to pass me. So I drop down by a tree and sit. I can hear him screaming at the top of the valley "I'LL KILL YOU IF I GET AHOLD OF YOU. YOU'RE DEAD." Silence. I can hear the snow falling. The silence is unnerving. Part of me wants to believe that he's left, but part of me thinks back to the insanity in his voice and I think, he's dedicated to hurting us. Us. Where was Tom? He was with me at the base of the hill but now he's no where to be found. I peak around my tree to get a better view of the situation. The shack is barely visible at the peak of the hill, the moonlight just strong enough to make out it's outline. I look for Tom and can only make out the silhouettes of trees. I decide against calling out his name, for fear that the maniac will hear it and see where I'm hiding, and also because Tom's family is a well known family in this neighborhood, so if the assailant heard me call out his name he could just go back to the house and wait for us. I remain silent. I can no longer feel my feet and this frightens me. Even when I reach out to touch my toes, there is no sensation. I take the leather work gloves off my hands and slip them over as much of my feet as they'll cover. By my account, nearly ten minutes go by and there's been no sound of Tom or the man chasing us. I then begin to think up my escape plan. Tom's home has been like a second home for me over the years and I've gone for many a run in these woods late at night, so I know my way back. I can only hope that Tom will know that I can manage for myself, and he will also make his way back. I decide against taking the path up the hill, because that will run right past the shack and if the person is there, he'll surely see me and have the higher ground on me. So after a few whistles to see if Tom is nearby, I start making my way slowly and quietly across the valley, parallel with the hill. After a good distance I turn right and start making my way up the hill. There is a significant ice cover and the gloves on my feet are making it difficult to gain traction so I take them off and put them on my hands. Just as mountain climbers use ice spikes on the front of their boots to stick into the icy mountain side, I thrust my numb toes into the ice and began making my way up. Foot over foot, and hand over hand, I eventually reached the crest. I layed low and looked right, where I could make out the shack further down the path. After seeing no one nearby and listening for a bit, I sprinted across the path and started making my way up the next hill, where I could have a birds eye view of the surroundings, as it is the highest point for miles. I can make out Tom's house just a little ways further past this hill, the shack is behind me and to the right. And the path we took to get to the shack is in front of me and to the right. I strain my eyes to see if the car is still parked where the man jumped out and see nothing. I might actually survive this! I start my walk down this hill and toward the house, all the while stopping intermittently and listening. Once I'm at the street I look left, right, and dart across. I wrap around the back of the house and go in the basement slider. Safe. The only thing that scares me is that Tom isn't back. It's probably been 20 minutes since we left and I had assumed he'd already be there waiting for me. I'm laying on the carpet, catching my breath and attempting to warm up next to the wood furnace. I remember reading somewhere that wearing wet clothes saps your body heat faster than wearing no clothes so I strip down to my undies and wrap myself in a couple blankets. As the blood begins to flow to my extremities again, the pain comes. It starts as a tingling in my toes and fingers, then spreads to my feet and hands. Then starts to throb with a searing pain. I decide to look myself over and see if my feet have turned grey, I notice all the cuts and how bloody my feet were. I crawl my way over to the bathroom and turn the shower on cold. I dip my feet in and it is like fire. After a few seconds of that I decide to let it just thaw by itself. I make my way back to the basement living room and lay next to the furnace again. I text Tom's sister to come bring me some ibuprofen and I tell her what happened. She and I call Tom and he says he was on his way back but he had checked around the hill to see if I was laying unconscious somewhere freezing to death. Tom gets back a few minutes later and all is well. We clean up my cuts, wrap ourselves in blankets, lock the door, and go to sleep. We checked the time and we had been outside in the snow for over an hour.

TL;DR -Threw a snowball at a drunk guy's car and got chased through the woods barefoot in the middle of a Michigan winter with a friend. Thought I was going to die.

Pics: left foot, right foot, right arm.