Short Story Sunday-#21

   The Bird

I remember when he was here, the bird, I mean. He flew around and made the most beautiful noises. I loved him. He lived inside me.

   The first time I met him was exciting. I was bought by the man and he set me in the corner of his old house for almost a month. Then finally, the man came home with the bird. He opened me up and let the bird hop inside me. At first the bird didn't like me. He chewed on my metal bars, and squawked for freedom. 

   Eventually he got used to me, and the man brought toys for the bird to play with. Sometimes the man let him out and let him fly around the house while I was left to wait for him to return. The bird sang songs his friends taught him at the pet shop. He taught them to me. Now, I know all the songs, but cannot sing them.

   One day, the man came home with a woman. She seemed very nice and she loved the bird. The woman came home almost every day afterwards. Once, she came with piles of boxes and never left. Soon, they were children. They ran around the house like miniature monsters, annoying any one they saw, except me. They pestered the poor bird, but he still loved them. He told me so.

   I was almost replaced one day, when the youngest child chucked me down the stairs. Seven of my bars were broken, and the bird escaped. I remember the woman's hands on the bars. 'Such a shame,' she had whispered. I was almost taken to the dump and caste away to live among broken dishwashers and cars, unable to house my bird. But the man had many surprises. He was able to twist and glue my bars back in place so I could continue taking care of the bird.

   The house was always full of life with the kids, the bird, and the man with his woman. We were all happy...

   

Now I feel the emptiness biting inside me. I feel the lack of life and joy. I miss my bird. He's gone now, finally free from my cold metal bars. I sit in the corner and watch the world around me. The kids have grown up and left the house for good. The woman sits in her rocking chair humming to herself and the man just walks around the house, taking longing glances at the lack of feather inside me.

   And me? I remember the bird. That is all I can do. I remember the songs, but cannot sing.

Short Story

   A painful howl broke out, waking poor Jennie Sharp from her fantastical dream. Leaving the world of pink clouds and puppies to the real world in the middle of the night with mysterious howling animals was not her ideal situation. The eight-year old girl pushed back her covers and silently walked in her white nightgown to her parents' room. Her hands trembled when she clutched them close to her heart. What could that noise be?

   The door opened with a muffled creak and Jennie patted her mother's shoulder.

   "Mum? What was that sound? Did you hear it?"

   Her mother only rolled over and mumbled, "Go to bed, Jennie."

   "But I'm scared. It could be a monster. What was it?"

   "I don't know. Go find out. It's probably just a dog." She rolled over again and fell back asleep.

   Jennie tried again to wake her mother, but she slept deeply and didn't want to wake up. She walked to a window, pushed back the curtains, and looked out on her small town in the center of Great Britain. So, Jennie took matters into her small hands and found her wellies. She pulled the rubber shoe over her feet and opened the front door. Without looking back, Jennie Sharp stepped into the cold night and shut the door behind her.

   She was instantly frozen cold and decided she should had taken a coat. Jennie pulled on the door, it had locked behind her. 

   Rubbing her arms for warmth, the girl trudged through the pile of autumn leaves to find the source of the howl. She pulled back the bush in front of her house, and looked behind the nearest tree. Nothing. 

   She went to the neighbor's yard and scoured the garden for any sign of life. She peeked into their pond and a frog jumped out and landed with a plop next to her. Jennie sat on her rump and huffed.

   "I'll never find the animal. I want to go home," she told the frog. "I'm tired and cold." A tear slipped down her cheek and she was getting ready to wail for her mother but the howl came out again. Jennie stood up with a jolt and ran down the street to the woods at the end. She pushed past the trees and stumbled into the woods. 

   A distant cry called out, "Jennie! Where are you?" But the girl payed no mind to her mother's frantic calls.

   The howl rang out again. It came from her left. Jennie took off, nearly tripping over a root. The howl came again, but quieter. Maybe she was going the wrong way. The howl became a whimper, but Jennie could still hear it. She walked in the same direction, trying not to make noise in the dry, crunchy leaves.

   She heard the whimper again, very close. She continued on her path, listening to every noise. She heard bugs buzzing and owls hooting. She heard the wind, but neither the howl or the whimper.

   Jennie took a break and sat back down on the leaves, breathing deeply. She listened to her heartbeat. Lub, dub. Lub, dub. Over and over, fast at first then gradually slower. 

   A rustle in the leaves alerted her that she was not alone. Her heart beat faster and faster. She breathed heavier. The whimper came again, quieter yet closer. Jennie bent over and crawled across the ground. She moved the leaves out of the way as she went. 

  Soon, Jennie came to a small pile of orange leaves. She almost bypassed a great opportunity, but a sound came out to alert her of its presence. The whimper. Jennie took another deep breath, then slowly picked off the leaves. Underneath the leaves was a soft orange fur of a fox. It's breathing had become very a labored and it was trembling with cold and fear. Jennie stooped down and lifted the poor soul into her arms. She cradled the fox and rocked it back and forth. She stroked its head and sang to it. When she finished, she told the fox all about her.

   "My name is Jennie Sharp. I came to find you when I heard you cry. I live in a small house with my mum and dad." She laid down and continued to tell the fox all about her life. Jennie curled up next to the fox and closed her eyes. The fox did the same.
   There they slept until the sun rose to awaken them. There her mother found her sleeping with an injured fox in her arms. There they slept all night, together.

I got the idea from this picture. As soon as I saw it, ideas sparked up in my mind like fireworks. I eventually settled on a little girl finding the fox. I decided to set it in Great Britain, because when I lived there, foxes were everywhere. Now, in the US, I never see any wild foxes.

 

(P.S. the photo of the girl with the fox is not mine and I was unable to find the original owner.)

Short Story Sunday-#20

   Hey! It's me. I know I've missed a few SSS's but I've been so busy these last few weeks of school with exams, final projects and just plain old homework. I have also been working on my second book and the story for the contest. It's hard to handle all these things at once, but now that school is out and the story is almost ready, I'll be as free as a bird.
   I'll be writing stories constantly and I might end up posting more than just SSS. Maybe you'll see a SSM or a SSW and a--yeah, you get the point. So, hold on tight because you'll be seeing more of me soon.
   This week I decided that I really liked the last one I did, so I'm going to do another one where I take the lyrics of a song and create a story from it. SO! Without further ado, I give you--this week's SSS!

Amsterdam

   "Hey, Augustine!" He always hated his name. Augustine was absolutely sure it was a girl's name. "You have visitors. Get over there and talk to them." With stiff legs, Augustine stood and made his way to the cell door. The guard's key clinked in the lock and the heavy metal door slid open. Augustine followed the guard to a small room with a desk and a wall made of glass. He sat in the chair and picked up the phone from the desk. With a deeps breath, he held it to his ear and looked into the face behind the glass.

   "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry I let you down."

   "Are you okay?"

   "Well, these days I'm fine. No, these days I tend to lie."

   "Why would you do this? Augustine. Why?"

   Augustine watched his mother's eyes. Tear began to well up and one slipped down her face.

   "Look where you've landed yourself. You're in jail."

   "Only for a few weeks."

   She put on a painful smile and asked him, "What will you do when you get out?"

   "I'll take the west train, just by the side of Amsterdam, just by my left brain, just by the tin man."

   "Ahhh, the tin man." A famous sculpture by the west train station. Augustine and his siblings used to spend their time their, playing.

   "Excuse me," the guard interrupted, "but your time is up. Next please!" His mother looked shamefully at him once again before setting down the phone and walking away.

   A new face appeared before him.

  "Augustine, I told you this would happen."

  "I'm sorry, brother. I'm sorry let you down. Well, these days your fine, no these day you tend to lie."

  "Hurry up!" The guard had begun to get bored. His lunch had started and he was ready to be done with this.

  "Oliver, listen. When I get out, I need you to do something."

  "Me? You're the one who stole--"

  "Oliver! We're running out of time! Listen. You'll take the west train, just by the side of Amsterdam, just by your left brain, just by the tin man. Bring her with you."

   "Mother?"

   "No, Jul-"

   "Time's up! Get off the phone, now!"

   "Do it, Oliver. Do it for me." With that, Oliver was left speechless while his brother was dragged away by a prison guard. He set down the phone and walked away to meet up with his mother. Why would he want him to bring Julie? Julie hated him now. Ever since he was arrested, she had lost her love for him.

   Oliver did as he was told and three weeks later, he convinced Julie to go on a train ride with him to see an "old friend". 

   "Who is this old friend of yours we're going to see?" she asked when they arrived at the railroad.

   "You'll recognize him when you see him." She sighed and sat next to the tin man. Oliver sat next to her, and they waited for the train in silence. The wind whipped Julie's blond hair over her face, though she payed no mind to it.

   "Augustine gets out today," she whispered.

   Oliver turned to look at her. "Yes, he does." Did she still care for him? Before he could think more of it, the horn of the train rang out and Julie stood up. The train came rambling down the tracks with intense speed and Oliver stood up.

   "Oliver! Is this about Augustine? Is that why we're getting on this train?"

   Oliver looked at her with strong emotion. He couldn't decide if he should tell her. "Yes."

   Julie stepped back two steps. "No! I'm not doing it. It's going too fast. I can't jump on. I don't want to see him. Good bye, Oliver."

   "Julie! Come back. I've seen you do it before, besides he wants to tell you something. Please. He wants to see you."

   As the train raced past, something made Julie stop. Something made her turn around and give the man a chance. Maybe it was something Oliver had said, or maybe she still loved him. Whatever it was, it made her jump into the thirteenth train car with Oliver on her tail.

   Out of the shadows, a dark figure emerged. A kind and sturdy man with sunken eyes and a scraggly beard. Julie clapped her hands to her mouth. Oliver sunk into the corner as the two gravitated toward each other.

   "Julie."

   "No, Augustine. Please, just leave. I don't want to talk."

   "Just give me a chance. Please. I know that you don't love me, but I love you. Give me a chance."

   Julie became quiet and listened to the man.

   "I'm sorry, lover. I'm sorry I bring you down. I kinda thought our love was a mystery and then I thought it wasn't meant to be, so I stole it. When I was being arrested, you said yourself fantastically, 'Congratulations, you are all alone.' I love you, but you didn't seem to love me so I thought it wasn't meant to be."

  "Augustine," Oliver said. "our stop's almost here. Sorry, but you have to wrap it up." 

  He nodded and turned back to Julie. "If you really don't love me, we can end this, but I want you to know something." 

Julie was close to tears by now, but she nodded for him to continue. 

   "Your time for love will come if you wait for it. It's hard, believe me; I've tried, but I kept on falling short. The rain won't fall for the both of us and the sun won't shine on the both of us. Believe me when I say that I wouldn't have it any other way because I don't want you to be stuck with me if you don't feel the way I do."

   "Alright, we're here," said Oliver. "Stay safe, Augustine. Don't get into trouble." Oliver lead Julie to the door.

  "Wait. Augustine, where are you going? Come with us."

  "I can't. I'm going somewhere safe. Away from people and you. Go, now. Remember, your time will come if you wait for it."

   "Julie, we have to go now. Goodbye, Augustine. Good luck."

   "Bye, Augustine."

   "Goodbye. See you soon."

  After one last faithful look back, Julie and Oliver jumped off the train and made their way home. Home to a safe place where they were to build their lives and forget about all that had just happened in these past weeks. 

Short Story Sunday-#19

Little Talks

For this SSS, I have decided to write a story based on one of my favorite songs, "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men. I'm just going to listen to the song and not look at any lyrics or anything like that, and I have no idea what the song is about, so this will be fun. BTW: I do realize that this song actually already has a special meaning to it, but I'll be making my own. This is kind of a last minute thing, so I don't know how good it'll be.

   The boat gently rocked Johanna asleep. I laid in the bed across the room, unable to fall asleep. The moving of the boat kept me awake instead of helping me sleep like my sister.

    I threw off my covers and glanced at Johanna. She pulled her hands closer to her face and breathed out. I opened the wood door a crack and slid out into the narrow hallway where I clambered up the stairs. Men ran around everywhere, pulling on ropes, shouting directions, and climbing up masts. 

   The captain spotted me and walked over. 

   "Why are you here, circus boy? It's the middle of the night," he shouted over the noise, "I told you to stay in your room. We're only a few days from land. Then we can take you to the circus." The circus. They were taking us to the circus because everyone believed that my sister was mental. "Go back down th-" Before he finished, a high-pitched scream called me.

   "Hinrik! Help!" Johanna. I dashed to the stairs but slipped on the first step. I tumbled to the bottom and pushed open the door to our room. Johanna was sitting up in her bed, her lips quivering and her face dripping with sweat. I crouched at her bedside.

   "Screams. I heard screams," she managed to say, "The screams all sound the same." Her eyes blankly stared at the wall behind me. "I'm scared." Then her eyes brightened again and she seemed to come out of her trance, but I could still see the darkness hanging from her eyes. "Don't listen to a word I say. It was just a dream." She always said this and I never believed her.

   I stood up and got into my bed, and once again, was unable to sleep.

   "Hinrik?"

   "Yes, Johanna?"

   "Where are we going?"

   "I think we're going to a circus."

   "What if we die?"

   "This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore. Good-night Johanna."

   "Good-night, Hinrik."

The next morning, we woke up and the captain told us to come out onto deck. He pushed us onto a plank that took us to a sandy dock. 

   We walked to a plump lady who smiled and asked the captain, "Are these the children?'

   "Yes, this is Hinrik, and he's 16," he said patting my shoulder, "And this is Johanna and she's 15. They're both Icelandic." He leaned in close to the woman and whispered something that made her glance at Johanna. Then the captain stood up straight, brushed off his coat and walked back to the ship.

   "Come along children. We're going to your new home." She lead us to a carriage attached to a horse and told us to get in. We did as we were told and sat in silence in the back.

   The horse pulled up to an old broken down house and we got out.

   "This way!" She walked to the door and stepped inside.

   "I don't like walking around this old and empty house,"Johanna said to the lady.

   Then hold my hand and walk with me, my dear." She kindly held out her hand ans Johanna took it. The lady took us to our room and was surprised by our lack of luggage. She left us alone for the rest of the day.

   At night, Johanna tossed and turned, keeping me awake. The lady somehow knew and gently pushed open our door. 

   "What's the matter?"

   "Stairs creak as you sleep, it's keeping me awake."

   The lady sat on her bed and said, "It's the house telling you to close your eyes." She stroked Johanna's hari and left.

In the afternoon of the next day I was told to wait outside while she spoke to Johanna. I held my ear to the door and listened in.

   "You're name is Johanna, right?" she asked politely. There was a short silence where perhaps, Johanna was nodding.

   "Are we at a circus?"

   "Oh, goodness! No! That would be cruel. I am here to help you. Tell me about yourself."

   Johanna took a deep breath and said, "Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right."

   "Your mind is playing tricks on your, my dear."

   "There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back."

   "Well, tell her that I miss our little talks."

   "What talks?"

   "That's what your brother's thinking. Hinrik, it's not nice to listen in on conversations. Come in." How did she know? I open the door and sit on my bed.

   "Now, Hinrik. What little talks?"

   "We used to play outside when we were young, full of life and full of love. We used to talk about beautiful things and not those saddening nightmares she gets."

   "Johanna, is there anything else I need to know?"

   "Can't do anything by myself. Some days I can't even dress myself."

   "It's killing me to see you this way," I said. Then Johanna turned to cough a heart-wrenching cough.

After a few months, Johanna seemed to have nightmares less. We even grew fond of the sweet plump lady. But one day, Johanna woke up screaming.

   "Hinrik! I'm going to die. The screams! They've always been me. They all sound the same because they're me. Help me!" The lady came in and sat at her bed. She stroked her hair and whispered thing into her ear. Johanna's breathing slowed and she laid back down. Just as her head hit the pillow, she coughed. The cough had become more and more frequent. Johanna stayed in bed for the rest of the day.

   After dinner the following day, I heard Johanna groan. Then she screamed. I raced up stairs and found the lady at her bedside. I collapsed next to Johanna and listened to her moan and scream. Her body writhed and she coughed uncontrollably. The pain reached me, but in a different way. Her screams hurt me and my heart beat out of my chest.

   Then, all at once, it stopped. The screams. The coughing. And my heart. I watched her body. I watched her soul leave her. I collapsed again on the floor and fell unconscious.

I woke up in my bed and just stared at the ceiling. Johanna?

   Yes? Her voice said.

   You're gone away. I watched you disappear. All that's left is a ghost of you. Now we're torn apart. There's nothing I can do. 

   Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.

   Now, wait for me. 

   Please hang around. 

   I'll see you when I fall asleep.

And that night I did. When I fell asleep, I saw Johanna playing in the field. She beckoned for me to join her. I pranced out to her and she ran away. I chased her. After I tagged her, we sat on a rock under a tree. She showed me to make flower chains. Then when the sun set, we walked away, hand-in-hand. We were happy. Quite happy indeed.

Short Story Sunday-#18

   The Sky's Tears

The pitter-patter soothes me to a trance-like state as I watch the water roll down the windshield in small waves. Cool air from the open window makes me shiver, making me pull my coat tighter. Finding my book, I read for a minute, getting sucked into the story. I glance up. The windshield is covered with water droplets and no matter how fast the wipers go, we still can't see out. The road has become a blurred grey strip. I stare at the windshield and try to assist my mom in seeing the road.
   Soon, the wipers can slow down and we can see the road clearly. The dark clouds make my whole day dismal. I try to make the day beautiful. The clouds make way for the sun and it bathes the road in light. The sky turns blue and the water on the road dries up. Trees bloom as we drive by. Singing birds fly across the road, narrowly missing the speeding car.
   "We're here!" I get pulled from my imagination and the dark clouds deepen my spirits again. Water still streaks across the sky.
   I step out in the drizzle. My raincoat is spotted with water instantly. A plump drop falls onto my scalp, through my hair. My mom walks by with an umbrella and I hear little fingers flicking the soft fabric. The umbrella is soon soaked. I pick up my book and slam the door. The book gets slipped into my coat and I zip it up with a whiz to protect it from harmful water. The library would kill me. I look up at the sky and feel the cold water dropping on my cheeks. Starting to walk, I look where I'm going. A house.
   Three boys come running out. The oldest says "hi" to me and moves on to my mom. The youngest shouts, "Georgia!" and trots to me.
   One about the age of nine says, "Hi, Georgia."
   I smile and say, "How are you doing?"
   "Good." I hear the door open a close as another boy about my age comes out.
   "Hey," he says and I return his "hey" and their parents come out and greet me.
   "You're so grown up," their mom says as she hugs me. I just smile and blush. "Let's go inside." I notice the boys don't have shoes as their feet slap the pavement, stepping in every puddle possible.
   Just as I close the door behind me, the sound of water on the pavement becomes harder and faster. I sigh. I'm totally soaked head-to-foot. My nose dripping with water and my hair plastered to my face in clumps, I remove my shoes and take my book to the safety of the bedroom. I set it on the side-table and race back outside to get my bag. My raincoat doesn't collect any more water this time, but it starts up again a few minutes later.
   That evening, I lean against the window listening to the pitter-patter of the water. I press my forehead to the cool window and close my eyes. When they open, the sun has appeared from behind the clouds and the last of the water streaks down the window, chasing its friends to a puddle on the ground.

Short Story Sunday-#17

Honovi of Kele Island

Honovi stood in the doorway of her hut. Soon she would have to give her task to her granddaughter. Honovi was growing old and the passing ceremony would have to take place while she was still alive.

Life was hard in the jungle. They lived on the Kele island in one big tribe. Everyone knew everyone and Honovi was the only individual with this particular task, so it was very important for it to be passed on.

“Aiyana,” she called with a voice calm like the wind. The girl with a thick headband sitting atop her head and feathers tied around her arm came rushing across the sticks and twigs on the ground with feet as bare as an elephant.

“You called me, Honovi?”

“Yes, child. My time has come and I must teach you how to perform this important task.” Aiyana nodded and followed Honovi into her hut. The hut was a large circle with a fire in the middle. Small animal skulls, lined the walls. Aiyana shivered with fear. Honovi never understood why the youth never enjoyed being in here. This place was home to Honovi. On either side of the fire lay two squares formed by long leaves woven together.

“Sit, please.” Honovi gestured to a woven square. “Aiyana, I have foreseen my death and I know I must pass on my task. I have chosen you, my granddaughter. My own daughter already has her task, so she cannot take mine. You were next in line.” She paused. “Today, you shall assist me when patients come in. I will teach you all I know over the next few months, but first you must tell me. Is this a task you want to take on?”

Aiyana thought for a moment then looked into Honovi’s wrinkled face. She stared at the tattoos running up her arms.

“Yes, I would be honored.” A smile spread across Honovi’s face and she took her seat on the other side of the fire.

“First you must learn the foundation of this complicated task. You must learn to understand the spirits. Close your eyes, child.” Aiyana did as she was told. “Now, visualize your spirit.” Honovi saw a doe prancing in a meadow, fending off predators. Her name, Honovi, meant strong deer. She suspected Aiyana was visualizing a blossom, always in full bloom even in the coldest of times. Aiyana meant eternal blossom.

“Speak to your spirit. Not yet though. I shall show you the proper way.” Honovi took a deep breath and spoke to her doe.

“Great doe. Hear me call. I wish for your wisdom.” I am always here Honovi. Tell me your troubles. “How shall I teach this child?” Teach from the heart. Tell her all you know and do not cease until she knows all and has mastered the art of spirit summoning. “Thank you great doe. I bid you many thanks,” Honovi finished. “Now, child. Speak to your spirit properly and be respectful.” Aiyana tried and passed with flying colors. “Very good. I see we have our first patient.” She stood and pulled back the bamboo curtains covering the doorway.

A tall, strong man stood on the other side with a bow in his hand and arrows on his back. Tattoos trailed up his arms and down his bare chest, in the form of a tree. “Ah. Gaagi. Come in. I am teaching my apprentice to take over my task.” Gaagi smiled at Aiyana. Gaagi meant large tree, hence his tattos.

Aiyana gave her seat to Gaagi and leaned against the wall. Honovi took her spot by the fire and spoke to Gaagi.

“What troubles you so?”

“My head bangs inside and I feel as if something is attempting to force its way out.”

“Ah. I know just what to do.”

“You always do,” he said. Honovi nodded and stood up. The glow from the fire gave an ominous shadow to Honovi’s face as she looked down upon it.

“Oh, great spirits! Hear me call!” she bellowed, her voice booming across the room. “If you hear my voice, give us a signal!” Suddenly, the fire turned acid green expanded to the size of a grown man. It sent smoke everywhere, making Aiyana cough. The smoke swirled in the room and formed the words: We hear you, Honovi.

“Gaagi has a creature in his skull. Free this creature and help Gaagi!” The smoke slowly crept closer to Gaagi and encased him in a grey ball of smoke. Then all at once the smoke retreated and the fire shrank to a small orange flower. Honovi fell to the ground and Aiyana rushed to her aid.

“Aiyana, I am too old for this task. It is taking all my strength,” she wheezed.

Gaagi stood up. “I feel much better. I bid you many thanks, Honovi.” Then he turned and stepped out of the hut.

Honovi looked to Aiyana. “Let me show you how to make potions to cure stiff joints.”

Over the next few months, Honovi taught Aiyana how to brew, speak to other spirits and even summon them the way Honovi had. Aiyana could make fire turn green and smoke swirl to heal someone.

One day, after Aiyana had healed broken bones, moved stiff ones, cured headaches and many other things, Honovi knew that Aiyana was ready. She called for a ceremonial task passing.

That night, the whole tribe gathered in a clearing and danced in circles, singing in their native language by the firelight. Honovi came dressed in a long animal skin and multi-colored feathers were woven into her hair.

Then the time came where Aiyana and Honovi cut their wrists and took a blood oath they had memorized. Everyone was silent until they had finished. Then everyone went back to celebrating. There was food and dance. Honovi was old, but she could sing with the most beautiful voice.

The next morning, Honovi passed away in her sleep, knowing that her work in the world was complete and she had left her task in the hands of a capable young girl.

Short Story Sunday-#16

Living Life: The Real Way

We take a lot of things for granted in life. Including life itself. This moment, right now, is never ever going to happen again. I've been living my life the real way ever since I stood on that mountain peak.
   I first had the idea of climbing the mountain while reading about it at school. The magazine the teacher gave us was about the youngest person to climb Mount Everest. Reading that really got me thinking. I want to do that. I want to do something fun with my life instead of sitting in front of a computer screen all day.
   At home, I told my parents my thoughts and they supported me fully. My dad and I started training. We ran from home to school and back everyday, and we went on long hikes in the hills. I found a book about how to climb a mountain and how to be safe about it. Dad bought all the equipment and after many months, we were finally ready.
   We decided to begin with a smaller mountain and build up to Mount Everest. We climbed Mount Hood first. It was a long, hard hike, but we eventually made it. All the training had really done some good. If we had done this before all the afternoon runs, we would have turned back before we even got halfway.
   After, that, we continued to train and climb mountains. Then we were ready for the big boy. My dad and I rode on an airplane to Nepal and stayed in a hotel for the night. Although I was excited and the adrenaline wouldn't let me sleep, I still somehow got enough sleep. Bright and early in the morning, we left for the mountain and met our group. The guide made sure we had all the necessities to climb before we made our way towards the mountain. I bounced on my heels with a never-dying excitement bubbling inside me.
   None of us knew each other, so we just climbed in utter silence. At first, it was just a rocky hill, but it soon became the steep, cold, snowy mountain that we all know it to be. Before the sun set, we set up camp and called it a night.
   The next day, we climbed down a ways then back up again. This was because in order to get used to the air pressure, we had to go up and down. Once again, we stopped for the night. We continued this for a week.
   One night, we had to stay in our tents instead of climbing on, because of a storm. Luckily, it was only a small storm and soon we were out there again.
   My dad and I felt very achieved when we had reached the halfway point. We could just go home and still be very proud of what we had done. But we had enough oxygen to take us to the top and back down, so we continued to the top.
   On the last day of climbing up, I just couldn't hold in the thrill of finally reaching the top.
   And when the guide said, "Half a mile left! This is the hardest part!" I was about to explode. He cautioned us of many things, but I only half-listened. Today, the climb was not silent and we were all talking. Everyone was jumpy and we all knew each other pretty well after all this time. I was deep into a conversation with a very nice lady, when my dad gasped and held my shoulder.
   "Julia. Look." I lifted my eyes to where everyone else was looking now. The top. I wanted to run up there and be the first one, but I knew too well that running used up more of our valuable oxygen. Instead, I walked the way a was supposed to and was very careful not to slip and ruin the whole trip.
   Then, we were there. On the peak. Staring out at the open world around us.
   Despite the oxygen tank, I still couldn't breathe.  It was as if a mystical force had pulled all of the air from my body and replaced it with wonder.  I suddenly felt so small. The world was so big. Bigger than it had ever been. I could see the curve of the earth in the distance. All around me-or more like below me-was the fluffiest, white clouds i had ever seen just floating around. The sky was all around me including beneath me! For a moment, I just tuned out everything around me except the sky, clouds and earth. I felt as if I was the only person on earth and I was the ruler. Then, it hit me.
   I might never feel this moment again.  This might never happen again. I needed to live in moment and die feeling complete because I had lived life the real way. Always taking note on how beautiful this sky is and listening to my brother instead of just ignoring him.
   While the rest of the group snapped pictures, I stood close to the edge, taking in deep breaths.
   When the guide waved his arm to signal that it was time to go, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't leave. My dad had to drag me away to break my trance. We then started the dismal trek down the mountain. No one wanted to leave.
   After that moment, I always lived life to its fullest and never took anything for granted. You only get one chance at life, so do it right.