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In the end of the steep piste, I sat down shakily on the snowy ground as my body refused to cooperate. Snowflakes whirled around my body as they slowly found its way down to the ground. Right in front of me Ramon was laying down with closed eyes, not showing any signs of breathing. I began to panic and felt tears running down my cheeks. One of the doctors, a short middle-aged man with solid beard and mustache, bent over Ramon with a facial expression that revealed the worrying state of his. He placed two fingertips on the pulse vein at Ramon's neck. "None" he said quietly, almost whispering. Despaired and devastated, I took my red glove of my right hand, closed my eyes and pinched my left arm as I always did to wake myself up. I inhaled a deep breath as I sat straight up in my bed. I was shaking. Overwhelmed. Ramon who sat next to me, placed his left hand in mine while he took a zip of his black coffee with the other. There was no need to explain my dramatic awakening. He already knew every little detail of this recurring dream of mine that kept waking me up. I glanced at the tv he was watching with enthusiasm. It showed the highlights of mountain sports in 2015 as it was the last day of the year. I met Ramon when I was eight. He was ten. My parents used to bring me every year to a small Swedish mountain town called Sälen around New year's. Ramon's family, originally from Madrid, owned a small ski village with a few small but charming cottages made of wood. We stayed in one of them. The first time we arrived in the year of 2000, it was snowing heavily, and the grey sky was looming. Yet, this little boy all covered in thick, gravelly snow, was playing outside, next to our cottage. "Hola" he said as I had intriguing walked up to him. Even though I didn't know a single word in Spanish, and he didn't speak Swedish, we became friends. Back in Sälen for the last days of 2015, Ramon and I had decided to celebrate New year's on our own this year. We spent all afternoon outside in the pistes. The afternoon was beautiful and so was the scenery that surrounded us. Between the ice-capped mountains, a lake could be spotted in the distance as the day was clear and sunny. The usually bustling pistes, was now empty as most people had left to go home to prepare for the celebrations. "Wait for me down the hill" he said with an enthusiastic tone in his voice. "I want to show you my new trick I've been practicing". I had never met a person so adventurous as Ramon. He was a fantastic snowboarder, an adrenaline seeker and brave. I carefully slid down the steep, craggy off-piste. I slipped a few times, realizing how insane this was. It must be the most difficult slope we ever entered. "LAST JUMP THIS YEAR" I heard Ramon scream happily as he jumped off a tall bump with his snowboard. I smiled, but it didn't last long. Ramon crashed headfirst into the ground without wearing a helmet. Moments later, an ambulance, two doctors and workers at the ski resort surrounded Ramon. I managed to move my paralyzed body forward until I reached the crowd. He was laying there with ripped clothes, now exposing his light brown colored skin. I couldn't feel anything but a pulsing, unpleasant heat running through my body. One of the doctors, a short middle-aged man with solid beard and mustache, bent over Ramon with a facial expression that revealed the worrying state of his. He placed two fingertips on the pulse vein of Ramon's neck. "None" he said quietly, almost whispering. Despaired and devastated, I took my red glove of my right hand, closed my eyes and pinched my left arm as I always did to wake myself up, but this time I didn't wake up.