The World I Left...

The Mountain

I stab my foot into a marshy ground and look up at the looming mountain above. I hesitate at first, but then without another thought, I find myself marching up the mountain. Mount Ebott to be exact. It's a steep climb but I'll manage. It could be worse.

My hand grips onto a rock sticking out the side of the hill and I grab onto it for support. I start to pull myself up but the rock slips out and it hits the side of my cheek cracking my jaw painfully. I open my mouth as if to yell but the blood begins to trickle over my lips and I breathe and slowly lower myself down instead. I wipe my cheek and my sweater sleeve starts to turn brown where the green cotton touched my blood. I ignore it and I take a bandage out of my pocket and apply it to my face.

I drop the paper on the ground and it starts to follow the wind. Through my rustling hair, I smile. It's not like I even care anymore. I turn back towards the mountain and I dig my fist into the mud and I pull myself up. I don't even care anymore. I hear my knuckles crack but I still continue. I keep heading up and I only stop when I want to make sure I still have my flower and my picture. I take out and unfold the slightly crumpled paper in pocket and I can see the happy family in the picture. Everyone is smiling.

I fold it back up and shove it into my pocket. I pull the flower out of my hair and I sit down to look at it. It has six petals. I look at it and flip it over in my fingers. I wish it could smile at me. Do flowers have thoughts? Does it remember when I planted it? Maybe it wouldn't recognize me. I try to remember myself in pigtails, laughing, always smiling, always messy. I bark a laugh. That's not me anymore. But still...
"Hey little flower... it's me, your- best friend...? Chara."

I can't believe I just did that. I feel stupid now. I push my bangs back and I place the flower over my ear so that it sits there perfectly. I shake my head to make sure it stays in place. I stand up and continue my climb. I get about five feet up when my grip begins to slip and I come sliding back down. a memory flashes through my head:

I see orange flames burst through the walls and my face is soaked from tears. I turn to see my family struggling behind me as we try to escape the fire. I'm at the window and I manage to grasp the frame before sliding down and gasping for air.
"CHARA" my dad calls.
"DADDY, MOMMY" I scream in response
My dad hurries to me and manages to thrust me out the window before collapsing behind me. I hear my mother gasp. And I turn around to see her face.
"CHARA. ESCAPE. GO NOW." she screams. I violently shake my head and one of my brothers chucks something at me motioning for me to leave.
"We'll follow you" he says in his kind yet distressed voice
I look at the object... my sketchbook. I turn back and I look at my family and then I run. I cower and hide my face in an empty page and cry. An hour passes. I must have fallen asleep. My house is barely recognizable. It's blackened with ash and a fire truck is parked outside. I get up and stumble over to my house. I fall and I look around. I gasp realizing I'm alone.
"MOMMY... DADDY...?" I expect to be wrapped in the warm loving arms of my mom. But... nobody came... I cry more as some firemen come to help me up and we start walking -well at this point I'm limping- to an ambulance. I know it's true but I can't bring myself to face it. I hold my sketchbook close to my chest and I scream. Because I know... that everyone I knew and loved... is dead.

For a split second I expect a force to hurl me up the mountain but I know it won't be there. I gasp for air trying to face the memory but a familiar instinct kicks in and I start to scramble up the mountain wildly thrashing and crying. I make it to a safe ledge and I force myself to sit down in order to take this in. I start to hyperventilate and then I calm myself down and my breathing regulates. Fear. I find myself letting out a slight laugh. That's something I haven't felt in a while.

I look back up at the sky and it starts to turn purple. I'm still human. I need rest. I lay down and I begin to let my eyes close. But I stop myself. I get back up and I take the flower out of my hair and I hesitate for a moment. I gather up a small pile of dirt and I place my flower as if planting it... exactly the way my mother taught me to when I was younger. It sits upright and I smile at it. Then I lay my head down to rest and the world gradually fades to black.