The Lonely Mountain

A mountain spurts from the earth, as I walk through all the wonders of life. It blocks my view, but I have a strange attached feeling to the misty top which prevents me from going around. I begin to climb. Blisters almost immediately start to form on my hands and feet, but the feeling grows stronger with each limb I stretch forward. My hands start bleeding when I get to the halfway mark and I cry out in pain with every move, but continue to climb. All of a sudden rocks fall from above and with a big yelp of pain I swing off a ledge and catch another side of the mountain. It almost felt like it was just my bones that were connecting with the mountain, all trace of humanity in my hand had long gone, but now only a third of the way from the top, the attached feeling surpassed any form of physical pain.

I climbed even faster than I did before, but the mountain started to boil under my skin just before I reached the top. I felt as if I would melt when suddenly a hand reached out of the mist and scooped me off the cliff face. When I came to I could see about a foot in front of me and no one around me but I immediately felt better. All my wounds were healed and the searing pain was gone. The feeling was stronger than ever before and I began to call out “HELLO! Is there any one here?!” I started feeling my way around as I called out but no one replied. When I realised I was alone, the feeling turned to a strong longing and then I’d realised what happened.

I was on the same mountain as before.