Chapter 2

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The first rays of sunlight appear from behind the peak of the mountain. I rejoice in their warmth. After spending what must be close to four years in that hell hole, this is the first time I have seen the sun and felt it's warmth since they stole me from my home all those years ago.

I have been moving all night and thankfully can no longer hear the cries of the killer mutts that will be forever on my tail. I have put several miles distance between hell and myself which only excites me further.

I haul myself up onto a sturdy ledge and look down. I must be over 100 metres up this mountain, the height makes me nauseous so I turn and continue to climb. As tired as I am, I know that I cannot stop to rest for long.

It is strenuous work climbing a mountain, I admit I may have underestimated how difficult, scary, energy sapping and crippling it actually is. My body is littered with cuts and bruises of varying intensities and my ankle is now swollen and purple, the sight of which makes my stomach churn. Each reach for the next handhold requires enormous effort from my oxygen starved limbs, I can literally feel my body beginning to shut down from starvation, lack of energy and dehydration.

My pace is slow but steady, I follow a simple pattern: check my footing twice before attempting to heave myself further up the cliff face, then when I am sure I can, I remove one hand from its hold and stretch for the next one followed by a foot. I repeat this, muttering the beats out loud.

"One.....Two.....Three.....Heave."

Eventually I reach the flat on the side of the mountain and collapse from pure exhaustion, my chest rapidly rising and falling as my lungs desperately suck as much air as they can manage to acquire into them. Every fibre in my body screams for me to stop and my eyes sting from the sheer amount of pain I am in, though I do not cry. I am past my days of crying, now I am better educated and know that to cry is a weakness, not only does it waste valuable salt, but it shows vulnerability. If you cried at base, you received extra hours in the pit or sometimes, if the master had had enough of you, you were put in the ice-olation chamber.

At a horrific temperature of -20 degrees, the ice-olation chamber stands at 3 feet high by 4 feet long by 2 feet wide. It's too short to stand up in and not long enough to lay down in, the sides allow for only a few inches space either side of your shoulders causing most people to suffer severely from claustrophobia as well as hypothermia. It was pure torture and a torture that I still bare the scars of.

As I try to compose myself, I block all the sour memories from my head for if I allow the past to haunt me, I will never be able to make a future. I am able to move to a sitting position with my back supported by the rugged rock of the cliff. The stone is cold from the night air but does well to cool my sweating body and even though the sun is on the rise, my eyelids grow heavy with sleep that I struggle with all my might to refuse. My journey is not over yet, I must press on.

I look down at my putrid ankle. I gently rub the swollen area but flinch ripping my hand away from my ankle as dire convulsions shoot up my leg, its broken. I don't know what to do about it. If I continue to walk and climb on it, the broken bone could pierce the skin and become infected and I could cause permanent disfiguration and damage to it...but staying put isn't an option.

I reach my hand above my head grabbing a rock that is jutting out so that I can pull my self up. I stand but the searing pain from my ankle brings me crashing back down to the ground after I have taken only a single step. I let out a cry of agony as my shoulder connects with the ground and a sickening crack is heard. It throbs and turns an awful brown colour almost immediately. Clutching it, I stand again, this time with a little more success and begin my excruciating descent.

The descent is as dangerous as the ascent and should always be tackled with precision and a cautious step but in my delirious state, I would be lucky not to die from the first few steps.


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